Monday, 18 June 2001

I've probably had a total of three plants in my lifetime that have been under my sole supervision. I found out early on that I have trouble taking care of living things that don't remind me to feed them, things that just quietly die in a corner, wilting or drowning. Of course I have killer's guilt, and I feel even worse to know that something suffered because I simply forgot about it and later tried to overcompensate. As a result, I've opted to have few plants in my life or to have roommates who have (and take care of) plants.

Right now, however, is an exception. A couple months ago, Martin gave me a jade plant to keep in my office. It has mysteriously puffy leaves, and I was a little restless until one fell off and I was able to break it open and see inside. Since then no more leaves have fallen off, and I think my plant is relatively healthy, apart from last month's emergency trip home to receive a week of experienced care. But even though I've probably learned something about caring for a plant, I think that I've lost the point of the whole exercise. Sure, my job is to keep it alive, but I should also enjoy its aesthetic value, clean off its plump leaves and spot the formation of new ones, and arrange it so that it sits in the afternoon sunlight. Instead, worry drives me more than enjoyment, and I figure that it's only a matter of time before I watch another one die.

Sunday, 17 June 2001

This weekend I've given myself a little break from computers and focused on other projects. For one, I made a mixed tape for an old friend in Scotland, who just called to tell me he's a father, as of last week. I guess I could congratulate him here, but I'm not sure he'll read this. (When I told him the URL of my site, he asked me, "So 'dot' is spelled d-o-t?" Um…full-stop com, then. A good reminder that the Internet isn't an essential part of life…) I also began sewing a little something at my parents' house, but it so happens that I am not at all a talented seamstress, and I left my half-finished project in Buies Creek until I'm able to spend more time with it. (My mom was still wrestling with the machine when I left.)

Yesterday I bought myself a voyeuristic camera lens. It's a little mirrored attachment that fits on the end of the lens and shoots pictures at a 90-degree angle, which means I can discreetly take pictures of unsuspecting people to either side of me. I don't really know when I'll actually get to use it, or if it's really all that inconspicuous, but it was cheap and insane and it exists, so I bought it. If I take anything worth showing, I'll post it.

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