In my quest to make the most of my benefits while I still have them, I went to the eye doctor today to get totally checked out. I'm pretty much blind (although I'm the least blind of the sisters, which is actually somewhat terrifying), and my level of nearsightedness means that my corneas are really, really thin. So the eye doctor put in drops that dilate my eyes so he could look at every nook and cranny. Which led to the following conversation with Andy:

Andy: So, can you not feel your face?
Me: I didn't go to the dentist, I went to the eye doctor. So my eyes are dilated, and I can't really focus.
Andy: Oh. So it would be bad if I did this? [Waves arms wildly]
Me: Ow. Please stop.
Andy. And it would be bad if I, say, threw a large heavy object at you?
Me: Yes. Because it would take a while for me to cut your head off, as my aim would be off. But I'd manage eventually.
Andy: Point taken.

See? I told you I was a good manager.

So far, the sentiment seems to be that being laid off is a good thing. This e-mail from Newton is representative:

And with a single bound, she was free!

I am prepared to BET MONEY that this will turn out to be the best thing that's happened to you in years. All the very best for your brand new life.

I am kind of seeing it as a not-entirely-bad thing right now. I can see the upside. I still panic about being able to both pay the mortgage and feed myself, but I really think this is going to be ok. It's an opportunity.

Check back with me come December, if I'm still unemployed. We'll see how much of an opportunity it feels like then.

So, do you want the good news, or the bad news?

Let's start with the bad news: I'm being laid off from my job. I'll be working through June 14. Within that period, I'm going to be making a plan for self-sustaining employers content, writing no-cost evergreen careers content, ending a bunch of contracts and generally tying up loose ends. I'll also, coincidentally, be visiting the doctor, dentist, eye doctor, and anyone else who is currently covered by insurance. Funny, that.

So, this kind of sucks, but it didn't take me by surprise, and they're treating me pretty well. I don't have a lot to complain about. And now, I can say that I truly was part of the dot-com world -- it doesn't count until you've been laid off.

I've already interviewed for a job at my old company, and I'm gathering information about freelancing. I'm not panicked, strangely enough for me. If it had to happen, this is a decent way for it to go. And it's definitely giving me powerful incentive to get off my ass and freelance. That whole mortgage thing is a powerful motivator.

So, if you have an opening for someone to read books and eat bon-bons, or, more realistically, write and edit damn near anything, send me an e-mail. I could well be your woman.

Enough of the downer stuff. Now for the important bits -- the good news:

I'M GOING TO BE AN AUNTIE! Yes, Laura and Jorge are going to have a kid, and I'm already looking forward to spoiling it rotten. With this employment hiccup, I tragically won't be able to lavish him or her with inappropriate, noisy toys (do you have any idea how cool legos have gotten? You can build a life-size Darth Vader, with breathing sounds! And Yoda! Dude!), but I imagine I'll come up with some way to corrupt Le Petit Pardo. I really need to learn to speak Spanish now, so I can teach the kidlet to say tasteless things in both languages. Whoo-hoo!

I'm really excited by my impending Wacky Bohemian Aunthood. There are so many cool books, and toys, and songs, and games, and rude noises, and .... well, the possibilities are endless. I've already been getting hints for aunty types -- apparently, loading them up with sugar, getting them all hyped up, giving them noisy toys and then returning them to their parents is the preferred method of dealing with nieces and nephews. I need to review the literature (like this, and this, and this....) to gather ideas. I'm so pumped.

Now, I understand that it's going to be awhile until I can actually break out the legos. Just to start with, Laura's not even due until November. And infants, apparently, really are only but so amusing. I've asked Laura to give birth to at least a three-year-old, but she seems strangely resistant to the idea. Harumph. She's no fun whatsoever.

Oh well, that gives me more time to plan. Bwah-hah-hah-hah-hah.....

Wacky bohemian aunt Sarah. Hee. I can't wait.

Yeah, yeah, it's all about me. What's your point?

Huzzah! Buffy's back! Joy.

The Legion of Dim (tm Television Without Pity) seems to have used this to come up with some of their, um, Fiendish Plots. I, obviously, would not need it. However, it's nice to have a reference manual. I'm all about reference material.

Cool blogs that I am reading all the time now:

Spacecheese and Blog with a Name that Keeps on Changing are two of the perpetrators of BlogCon Austria. (I'm been a Feral Living fan for a while.)

Space works in a library in Iowa, and occasionally riffs on this Attack of the Crab Monsters poem. You've got to respect that.

Pat, of BwaNtKoC, works on natural language programming, and get linked to by people who write in Welsh and Dutch and suchlike. Plus, he linked to one of my posts! Go Pat!

I actually helped instigate Middle Youth, written by a woman who hangs out on a board I frequent. Go Susan!

And have I brought up Eric's blog yet? He's so cool.

I just finished If Chins Could Kill by Bruce Campbell. Funny stuff. But dammit, it makes me want to watch movies like Evil Dead, but I know I can't because I get too damn freaked out. He makes it all sound hysterical. I just don't deal well with flesh-eating zombies and severed limbs and such.

Since I don't watch horror flicks, I know Bruce Campbell mostly from Xena and Hercules. He's also been in movies I've really liked, such as The Hudsucker Proxy. Who knew?

Potbelly, a restaurant in my office building, hired musicians to play over lunch hour. Usually it's a signer with a guitar, but recently they've been having this guy who plays the hammered dulcimer. He tends to play a lot of yes (Owner of a Lonely Heart) and Beatles (Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds) and such. Hammered dulcimer in a sandwich shop. How cool is that?

This is so cool. I want it. I have no need for it, I just think it kicks ass.

Went to John's pre-30th birthday party last night. There was drinking and bowling and singing loudly to classic rock songs and scary big-eyed-puppy balloons and a giant pinwheel and flair and ow my head. It kicked ass, and I definitely felt it this morning.

We started off at Piece, "as seen on The Real World Chicago," which was actually quite a cool place. Good drinks (yummy, Absolut Mandarin and cranberry), good pizza (cut like a pie, thank you very much!) and a remarkably tolerant wait staff. They didn't chuck us out, even when Lotti started writhing for no apparent reason.

I talked to a bunch of different people, including Pat, who does the short films with John. He and his girlfriend recently bought a condo, so we were talking about home ownership and such. Apparently that's not what it looked like: Pat wandered off, and Brian Bilcer sat down next to me and asked "So will you flip your hair at me now?" Huh? Evidentially I was playing with my hair, and it looked like I was hitting on Pat. If so, it wasn't conscious. Still, it's nice to know I'm not completely out of practice. Now I just have to start targeting my feminine wiles at someone who's single. Hmmmm.

I'm not much of a bowler. interestingly, it seemed to be pretty much all or nothing with me. I'd bowl a series of gutter balls, then get a strike or a spare. In the first game, I bowled a 59. That's pathetic. In the second: 25. Beyond pathetic. Fortunately, I don't care. And I only accidentally sent the ball flying behind me once the entire evening. I'd say that's a pretty successful trip for me.

Andi and Kevin were in town, and I hoped they would be able to join the bowling madness. Alas, they were unable to make it. I did get to see Andi for breakfast, but Kevin could not join us. Bummer. Kevin is this big strapping lad from Wisconsin, and the last time we went out to breakfast here, he went through about 12 pats of butter. He was raised in the dairy state. What can you do.

Today has been spent hydrating and gardening. The tulips look good, and I put in some periwinkle and Burgundy Glow Bugleweed. Again, I am reminded that gardening is not an activity for those obsessed with instant gratification. There's a bunch of scrawny new plants in the ground, but there's still a largish expanse of dirt. A bunch of people walked up while I was digging to tell me how good it was going to look, but it's still disappointing to dig and plant for two or three hours and still see mostly dirt. ("Soil," my mom says. I'm enough of a city person now that it's just dirt.) Oh well.