April 22, 2002
Monday

If you cuss at all the red lights, you make better time. It's true.

Tonight was a piano lesson. Of course, I couldn't leave Orlando until Mom and Dad got back to Orlando. And that was all well in good, because I had it planned. I had it all planned. If I left an hour early, it would be more than enough time to account for the extra traffic. I brought the right CDs to make time go by faster in the car, and I had a full tank of gas.

And, unfortunately, I also had a conference call. "No worries I thought; they don't usually take too long." Usually. Hmph. When I join a call, the problem determination process is supposed to be well underway. People have tried the obvious things and, more often than not, a little progress has been made.

But this time, thirty minutes later, we were trying to get a straight answer as to whether routing was happening on a firewall or on a multilayer switch. That's just wrong. "La, la, la."

When Mom and Dad got home, I hadn't cleaned the house. The dishes weren't done. There were still cloths left to fold and the clock with ticking. Tick, tick. (You know the sound.) I tried to visit with them during the slow points on the call, but most of our visiting was Mom helping me pack while I worked.

She didn't say anything, but the first thing she did when she walked through the door was unload and reload the dish washer. That just hurts. At least I didn't kill her dog. And I didn't have the piano tuned. Of course, they wouldn't know that. And for some reason, I decided not to tell them. I have no idea why.

Ironically, the call ended just as I was ready to leave. Next time I'm house sitting and I want help packing the car, I'm just going to pretend that I'm on a conference call. Except that I'm going to be a lot less frantic.

Mom bought a new picture for my apartment -- a gift for house sitting for her. Though, I didn't get the speakers set up for her computer. She's been without them since Christmas when we got her a much bigger monitor, but forgot that she would then need speakers. If I wouldn't put off things until the last minute…

It's a picture of a young girl reading. The book is open and she's looking into the distance as though contemplating the author's insight. An expression to old for her face perhaps, but which reminds me possibily of Jane Eyre. Mom got it because the she looks exactly like the girl in my Steve Hanks print "Beginning" which is hanging in my living room.

"Beginning is not only a kind of action, it is also a frame of mind, a kind of work, an attitude, a consciousness." --Edward Said, Beginnings.

Well, probably it wasn't physically possible, but I encountered no traffic and got to school 30 minutes before my lesson -- enough time to fix hair, use the bathroom and even warm up in the practice rooms. Absolutely fabulous, sweetie.

When I was outside his office, I called on the cell phone. "Just wanted to let you know I'll still be there at seven!"

"Great. So you're… I mean, will you be a few minutes? It's seven now."

"What? It's only six!" I was incredulous.

Nervous laughing. "No it's seven…"

"Oh no! Wait, I was reading about teleportation in a New Age book. Hold on." I made some grunting sounds and then POP! There I was peeking through the glass in his door. Sadly, he was starring at the desk with phone in hand. But I scared the crap out of his student -- I had no idea that he was still teaching someone! Ooops. Everyone laughed though, in the end.

We had great time talking, as usual. And we moved on to the final section of Khachaturian's Toccata. So near and yet so far.