actuality.log


Monday, December the 10th, 2007
Tagged: , , ,

I woke up today to a message on my phone.
From my mother.
Telling me she’s going to be turning up here on Thursday.
Yes, Thursday.

Since then, I’ve begun to freak out and have frantically been attempting to sort out my dwelling environment and my life. I don’t really know why though, I’m going to fall short of her unrealistic standards anyway.

This entry was pushed through outside the regular chronology because it contains breaking news. You probably don’t know this, but the way this journal works is that everything first begins with daily tidbits on scraps of paper forming a physical journal. Under normal circumstances, portions of these scribbles are transcribed, polished upon or expanded into the entries you see here.

As you’ve realised, I haven’t been transferring anything from paper of late, and working through the regular chronology wouldn’t have allowed for this entry to show up in a timely manner.

Never to fear, there is more life news that exists on paper which will make it up here, and I don’t intend on falling from my on-average ten posts per month frequency.

This is a printer-friendly version of the journal entry “Enter, stage left” from actuality.log. Visit http://emphaticallystatic.org/earlier/enter-stage-left/ to read the original entry and follow any responses to it.

8 Responses to “Enter, stage left”

  1. Mukul says:

    Wow! Good for you, you will get to taste some home-cooked food and that too prepared by your mom. I don’t think anything comes closer to mom’s hand-cooked food.

    Don’t put too much effort into sorting things out. Even if you turn everything into a fairytale setting, she will find out something you missed despite using MS Project! :)

    But none of it matters, because she’d be happier to see you above all else…

  2. pundit says:

    There are a lot of things that delight more than mom’s hand-cooked food.

  3. J says:

    Like what?

  4. pundit says:

    Like a hot fudge sundae. Or if one were scouting more broadly, the intoxicating sweaty scent of an aroused woman.

  5. J says:

    Good lord! I think your mum should get you married to a sweet young iyer girl.

  6. pundit says:

    I don’t know why, but I find your degree of specificity intensely amusing.

  7. J says:

    Hmm… is it funny n amusing? is it why-didn’t-I-think-of-that amusing? or is it j-amusing?

  8. pundit says:

    It’s J’s-perspective amusing as in: Why is she restricting his partner selection pool to sweet and young and iyer and girl?


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