Monday - er, Tuesday

I got more work done on my hat yesterday and I did some sewing and my arm was only slightly sore when I went to bed. So maybe it's not as bad as I thought. Hope not. I have more knitting and sewing planned for today.

Today's pool complaint is the clock. There are two clocks neither is placed conveniently for swimming but at least, if you stop at either end of the pool, you can check your time. (The Ballard pool has a giant pace clock positioned so that you can easily check the time without having to even break your stride but what.ev.er.) On Saturday, the clock was working but 15 minutes slower than the one at the other end of the pool. As I was leaving, I asked them to check it. Sunday, the slow clock was dead - 9:45. As I was leaving, I asked them to check it. This morning it said 7:45 the whole time. As I was leaving, I asked them to check it. Stay tuned for tomorrow's episode of What Time Is It???

Tomorrow is my first Mariner game in my new Diamond Club seat. I am very excited. I'm going to make a new bag for it today. I hate having to even take a bag but I have to have tissues, chap stick, my cough stopping pills, sunglasses and ID, plus my phone. Not enough pockets. So I'm thinking a very small cross body thing that will hold the basics. Small enough that I can just wear with without having to take it off or keep track of it.

Oh cool. My here's-what's-coming-to-your-mailbox-today email says my replacement debit card is coming today. Whew. I need cash and I hate to use my credit card for that so I'll can just trot this new card to the ATM this afternoon. Nice.

My brother's little baby chicks are clearly headed to adulthood pronto. Amazing.

My tweets

• Mon, 21:04: Even more progress @ The Florentine https://t.co/JCYKehJBls

Looking in the lost and found for patience

I have one ticket of my 15 game set that I cannot use. It's when my friends from New Zealand are here. I asked the Mariner sales lady about trading it with another Diamond club member for a different game. She said she would ask. I got an email saying she had no luck and I might try selling it.

So I went to the website and tried to do it intuitively. Fail. I tried this and that. I read the fucking FAQ's. I tried again. I have a 'sell' option on tomorrow's ticket but no others. The Mariner (actually MLB) website is a mess of misleading and missing information. The ticket management website (actually part of Ticketmaster - so you can guess the issues there) is worse. The mobile app is the worst of the bunch. It's really only worthwhile if you want to know where to get a hot dog at the ballpark (my hot dogs are delivered, thanks) or how to upgrade your ticket (no need, thanks). So I was already pretty pissed when I wrote an email to her and asked her what the trick to selling tickets was and if I was stuck with that damn mobile app for getting into the game.

An hour later she called.

IF I SEND AN EMAIL. REPLY BY EMAIL! If I had wanted to talk to you on the phone I would have fucking called you!

So, of course now I was pissed on top of pissed. And, I'm afraid, I did not hide it well. Especially when she told me that you can't sell a ticket until you click on the Print At Home Button. You don't have to print. You just have to click the button. Oh, now that's REAL, intuitive. And, turns out, of course, she's right. Once I hit the Print At Home button, I got the Sell button. Holy fuck me.

And, no, you do not have to use the horrible phone app. Again, hit the Print At Home button and use the resulting PDF.

But, next time, just fucking send me an email. And, of course, when you are on the phone, you tend to repeat. So she told me 'all you have to do is Hit the Print At Home Button' a million times. I kept telling her that I understood. Thank you. I finally told her that I was technologically competent if given the correct direction. And, she told me once again...

Seriously, email. Rule of thumb. Respond in media selected by the requester. Simple.

Ok, I may be nearly over it. Almost. Maybe.

I did get a small purse made. This was a Mike Zinnino (catcher) bbq apron giveaway that someone left on the free shelf (may it rest in peace). I made it into a sewing machine cover but I thought purse was a much better idea. It has a light pink lining because I hate it when the inside of my purse is dark and the light pink was the only thin enough light colored fabric I had on hand.



I also finished my hat. I like it. Next time I'll make the band a little smaller but I'm very happy with it.



And I did get my ATM card and I got cash from the ATM. So as soon as I get over being pissed, all will be fine.

Continued

My life in California was busy. Really busy. I worked hard and I played harder.

My time online was growing from just the local electronic bulletin boards. Prodigy was hot. I met some great, fun people there. Also there was The Well which was serious geeks who were great teachers and Compuserve. Each of these were different phone numbers you called and logged in. That's how we did it in the olden days.

But the one that sucked up the spare time that I didn't really have any of was Sierra Online (the people who made my first ever computer game). They asked me if I wanted to beta test their new online software. Oh yeah, baby. They had a bunch of different multi player games (not like the current ones, at all) but just regular games that you play with more than one person. My game of choice was Bridge.

I found a partner, a lawyer in LA. She and I would log in and play often. Usually late at night. And we actually ended up playing together for several years even after I left California. Bridge it the kind of game where the more you play the better you get and we got good. And it was so much fun.

Also in the mix of my busy life was Bobby. Bobby is the guy I met at the ballpark. We dated for pretty much the whole time I was in California. Not seriously and not steadily but enough.

He had lived in San Jose for ever. He had a different perspective. Oh and also he could predict earthquakes. Well, not predict but he felt them way earlier than anyone else. He'd be in the kitchen or somewhere and holler out 'earthquake!' and I'd say 'what?" and he'd repeat 'earthquake' and only then would I feel the tremor. It was freaky.

And he raced Porsches. For a hobby. He had 3. 2 ran. Both were beat up and had no suspension and crappy radios. I always felt like riding with him was my Last Ride. Especially on Highway 1. He and his buddies would do a convoy thing and chat via CB radios as we raced down the highway. I always thought the view was lovely... for a last view, particularly.

In 1990, the Porsche Club of America had their annual convention in Monterey and it was wild. we both worked as volunteers and it was really kind of fun. Porsche owners from around the world were there. Half were race car drivers like Bobby and the other have were show cars... tires wrapped in t-shirts so they wouldn't get dirty and cleaning every nook and cranny with special fluids and q-tips.

It was quite an education. Oh and I had an official badge!! (Bobby was the only person in my life who ever called me Sue.)



As 1991 came around, it became clear that it was time for another move. I was working for Bergren again and he was getting into career shaping mode. Shaping my career. "You should go to New York and talk next steps with ..."

To Be Continued