Things just keep changing.

A process-fest which was to have happened that night got pushed back to Monday morning. Vash and I were up by five (as we would have been anyway), and by seven we decided to both call in sick to work. And we both were heartsick, in a lot of ways. We spent the day together, with Dreamweapon: An Evening of Contemporary Sitar Music by Spacemen 3 and Echo Poeme Sequence No. 2 by Nurse With Wound over and over, still together by the end of it all, if slightly redefined. And what the future holds is for the future to know. We did wind up (among other places) at Mission Thrift, where I got some nice black lingerie stuff which I'll most likely wear to NakedSword holiday party, and while we were at Community Thrift, we had the misfortune of seeing Cur. She doesn't appear long for this world, not judging by her skin.

Spent most of last night at Java Beach working on the Medialoper column which I'd already postponed. I'm officially between laptops—my Gateway is all but dead, and I'm waiting on financing approval for a Dell—but Ripley was kind enough to loan me hers so I can still get work done. I'll be seeing her tonight, but I don't think I'll be giving it back just yet.

From there, we had dinner at Trattoria Pinochio underneath the big scary poster from Begnini’s Pinochio, and returned the Black Light District.

Last night, Vash and I went to Chabot Space & Science Center in Oakland to look through the big telescopes. Oddly enough, the view was better through the smaller telescopes and binoculars.

I went to the DMV this morning to get the Title and registration and stuff transferred to me. I also found out that I don't have to have the title for the Neon present to get the dismantling papers, just the wealth of paperwork. Convenient, that. Vash and I will probably be getting it done a few Saturdays from now.

Drove back home to clean up after my first official food spill in the Saturn—whose name is Phoebe, one of Saturn's moons and possibly originally a comet—and then to work. Spent entirely too much of the day on the phone with the insurance company, getting Phoebe added to the coverage. It worked, though, and by the time I left the office I had both registration and proof of insurance, meaning Phoebe is as street legal as she's going to get. Changing of the guards, indeed.

Through it all, I was working on my laptop, backing up my writing and the scans of Vash's artwork (not simple when the DVD drive doesn't work), and then nuking and reinstalling the entire system per Gateway's suggestion. In spite of all that, the DVD drive still doesn't work, and now there's something wrong with the power supply. (It was starting to screw up before and I nuked the system.) I really hate the thought of having to get a new laptop, but as Vash points out, it's a personal work expense, what I need to be productive. And it's true. It's how I'm get my writing done, period. I'm far from finished with the book, and I have a Medialoper column due next Friday. So, I get a new laptop, probably from a place like Best Buy with one of their service plans so (hopefully) I'm not totally fux0red when it falls apart a day after the manufacturer's warranty expires. I hate making huge purchases in any event, and having to do another on right after getting Phoebe kinda hurts, but, hey, what's another grand of debt? It's for a good cause. Car plus laptop equals productivity, and I'm not going to slow down now.

After work, I went to The Dark Room for a Found Magazine show. Standing behind the tech board (though not actually doing anything with it), I felt about as hip as I'm ever going to get.