Lanie yelled at me today. Called me not serious. Called me a loser even, but that with a smile on her face and a kiss, so no real insult meant, and none taken.
Why am I an unserious loser? Because I didn't go to a schmoozing session in the city today. Through a friend from grad school I have come across a possible job in advertizing—using my number-crunching skills to hone their evil mind-warping techniques. My contact at the company casually suggested that I drop in on some marketing seminar tonight to see if I could pick up more contacts with other potential employers. I said hey-thanks-sure, hung up the phone and scowled. It appeared that I had better go. I didn't want to go.
I hesitated until the very last moment. I even dressed up and browsed the train schedule to plan my timely arrival. As the departure time neared, I sat at the desk unsure what to do. In the end, I solved the problem my usual way: I tossed a coin. Heads for going; tails for staying. It came up tails and I popped eXistenZ into the DVD player.
Sometimes I toss a coin and balk at the outcome. This reveals to me, despite any self-deceipt, which choice I really prefer. Coin tosses are a great way to make decisions.
(They say in this age of online transparency, people are being judged by the contents of their iTunes playlists. As I read that, an idea popped into my head: Sherlock Holmes drawing astute conclusions from someone's porn collection:
Holmes: Cherry Poppins and the Lost Gang Bang? Clearly we are dealing with someone left-handed who has recently visited Australia and likes shaved pussies.
Bald kitten: Miao!)