In Other Good News. . .

I’m hoping to get some posting done this weekend. Maybe I’ll even catch up on e-mail.

It’s almost March, always one of my favorite months. (In like a lion, out like a lamb.)

My wonderful boss has cleared my schedule for the next couple of weeks, so instead of working on promotional e-mails, I’ll be writing up new features for the Help system. This is good news, because (A) the deadline is approaching fast, and (B) I really want to do something different for a while. Also, because it was a rough week, she gave several of us little thank-you gifts with heartfelt notes of encouragement. A lovely mug, Ghirardelli hot chocolate packets, and a Toblerone bar — because chocolate is a pharmaceutical. I give thanks every day that I have a good boss.

Also, my new PageMaker 7.0 arrived at work. I am thrilled beyond words. (Yes, I am a geek.) It will make my work life so much easier. Though I only have a few large documents to lay out every year, they are complex enough in design that I need PageMaker (or Quark or Frame) to do them. (My opinion of Word’s formatting would burn a hole right through your monitor and possibly into your brain, were I to express it here.) I literally spent two weeks laying out the bloody things last spring, and they still were not right. Now I can do it properly. I’ve been using PageMaker since version 4.0, and I think and dream in it.

I went to SF Tuesday, a trip I’ll write up later this weekend. But the trip was a good thing. So was finding some books and some beautiful cobalt and silver salt shakers at the Goodwill store in the Mission District. So was dinner with my old friend Jay, where we discussed the perils of dating after ending a long relationship, and I made him laugh so hard I thought he might asphyxiate.

On the SF trip, I missed getting into SF Herb by about sixty seconds. Not good news. But I ordered from them online, and the box arrived today. Definitely good news. I spent some time sniffing ecstatically at the fresh cinnamon, jasmine tea, vanilla powder, dried orange and lemon peel, and black peppercorns as I poured it all into jars and labeled them. That’s a good thing to do after a week of too many pixels.

I’ve also been getting more walking in, which is a wonderful thing. I need the exercise, and I love walking.

My new laptop may be here soon, courtesy of my friend Rob.

So let us all be thankful for whatever good things have come our way this week.

NaNoEdMo Starts at Midnight

March is National Novel Editing Month, and the website is up, too. Witty mouseovers, gleaming new forums just crying out to be scribbled with posts, and many of our old friends from NaNoWriMo.

I have signed up for NaNoEdMo, though I’m still plodding away at writing the novel. Well, no. That’s not accurate. I’m still plodding away, *not* writing the novel. This weekend maybe I’ll hole up and finish the first wretched draft.

Not Everyone in Silicon Valley Is a Rocket Scientist

One night last week, Sonja and I were standing on the porch when the screaming started. The wordless bellowing was coming from across the street. We ran over — me barefoot, as usual — to find one of our frat-boy neighbors pinned under the right rear wheel of his old Cadillac. The wheel was hung up on his thighs. The engine was still running, the door was closed and locked, the keys inside.

By now one of the guy’s housemates had come out. Sonja ran to get the other one, while the housemate and I tried to lift the car off the trapped boy.

Michele came out onto our porch. I yelled across to her, “Call 911! And get Paul!” Who is not only strong, but used to be an Army medic.

As Paul crossed the street to the scene of the accident, I went across to give Michele details for the emergency services. Sonja and the other housemate came out, and the four people lifted the car off. Naturally, since the car was still in gear, as soon as it was lifted free of him, the car started moving. It turned in a flawless half-circle and smashed into the van in their driveway, then stalled. Sonja had been dragged a little way; her jeans were ripped at the knee, and she was bruised and bleeding.

Paul checked the kid over, while we fetched pillows and a blanket. He told us what had happened: the emergency brake wouldn’t let go, so he decided to disengage it at the wheel. He left the door swinging open, but he must have automatically hit the Lock button as he got out. Unfortunately, he forgot to take the car out of reverse or to turn it off, so the second the brake was off, it started up, running over him. The door swung shut too.

The ambulance came and took the kid away, and we all went inside. About half an hour later, the other roommates came over with a bottle of champagne and an unopened box of Valentine candy, along with a little note scribbled on lined paper, thanking us.