November 2, 2001
Not much going on today.
Lots of people worried about the supposed threat to the Bay Area's main bridges. They haven't targeted the San Mateo bridge, but then again, the San Mateo is always closed because of some freak who managed to flip their SUV or even their Saturn. How the hell do you flip a Saturn on a two-lane bridge? I don't get it. Whatever.
I'm not that concerned about it. I drive over the Bay Bridge every day. Twice a day. I have to get to work, unless I take BART, which I might as well start doing again. Plus, I need an oil change and daddy just doesn't have the money for that. The lifters are clicking louder and louder, and all I can think of is Janey and her story of how her friend's engine seized up and cracked because it didn't have any oil in it. That makes me really paranoid. Every time I smell something or hear a new noise, I wonder how much it's going to cost this time. And the cute guys at Cowden Automotive don't cut me a deal, no matter how tight my pants are. I always drive out of there paying close to a grand...for car repairs. Hmmm. But Paul has the prettiest blue eyes, and when he's explaining to me what the timing belt does, I just stare at his blue eyes, listening intently, but ignoring everything he says. Sorry, Paul. Don't mean to be rude. But I digress....
Imagine how many people see the Golden Gate as one of America's defining landmarks. Just like the World Trade Center. Granted, not as many lives would be lost if they knock out the bridge, but I'm willing to bet how many angry people there would be after that, too.
It's so beautiful to look at. When I actually lived in the City, I liked to go out to Land's End to sit and stare at the bridge...among other things. :) I loved to sit and watch boats sail under the span. The hills are so pretty with their natural greens and browns, and then add the gateway to the Pacific Ocean with its blues and the international safety orange of the bridge itself and you've got a gorgeous palette of color. OK, so that was cheesy, but I just love it. Sometimes I can see the Golden Gate from the Bay Bridge as I drive to work in the morning. If it's not foggy, you can see Alcatraz, Angel Island, Sausalito, and the Golden Gate. It's remarkable. It's one of those things that reminds me of where I live and how glad I am to live here. Even watching the opening credits to Charmed, I can see parts of the City and be happy. "I live there," I say as my face beams with pride. In fact, when we were returning from London, the flight which was originally diverted to Canada on September 11th, and sent back to London because of September 11th (long story), the pilot flew us directly over the Golden Gate Bridge as he made the approach to SFO. It almost brought a tear to my eye. I love San Francisco.
But wasn't there a late episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine in which the Breen attacked Starfleet headquarters, which are in the Marin Headlands? And didn't they take out the bridge during that attack? So that was all CGI, and though I didn't see that particular episode, it was horrifying that someone in Hollywood could be so bold. But then again, they blew up the White House in Independence Day, among other things, and Congress in Mars Attacks, which was hilarious. OK, so that's what fiction is about. Blah blah blah.
I'm leaving, after all, for Vegas on Tuesday. While I was chez R&W this past weekend, they chastized me enough to realize that a free trip was a free trip no matter what it cost Bam!Bastic Tours to organize it. They insisted that it barely repays me for all the time that I spend watching Buddy and Rosie. I insist that it's too extravagant and that I do it out of the goodness of my heart because I can't stand to see them boarded in a kennel somewhere. After all, their first plan was to stay in the Presidential Suite at the Bellagio, which rents for about a dollar a square foot per night (that's $2000 for 2000 square feet with two master bedrooms and three bathrooms, which I have to remind myself, is about three times as large as my hovel in Oakland, which I don't need to remind myself is very sad). But then they scaled down their plans a little and moved across the street to the Venetian. They're getting a suite for the three of us, while their friends get another suite. They really were incredulous that I could be uncomfortable with a such a deal. That's a lot of money to spend on me, and frankly, I don't like that. If you want to repay me, buy me Funny Girl on DVD because daddy just doesn't have the money for that, either. :| Natalie Merchant has a new CD coming out soon, and I still haven't picked up Suzanne's new one. I'm po. I make over $50,000 a year, and I'm always fucking broke, but that's a tangent I just don't want to deal with today.
Anyway, so they got angry that I would be so humble, and they insisted that I pack my "fucking bags" and get on a plane with them on Tuesday. I am looking forward to it, though. I haven't had a vacation in months, and it will be nice to get out of here for a while. They're too nice to me, and I hate it sometimes. Why don't I feel worthy? Oh, right, it's that self-esteem issue that I've had since, oh I don't know, I was 12?
