september 17, 2000. We just got home access. Last week I waited in line for 20 minutes at the User Support Centre in order to be told that they would contact us when the software was available for home access. Well. They didn't. The only reason we were even in that building was because I was sick. Earlier that day I started feeling stir-crazy, so instead of cooking a frugal meal from our supplies, we went down the hill to a local grill. It was very cool. We used to eat out all the time in Ontario, but it's just not practical here. Our budget is infinitesimal with the Boy out of work; we just can't afford a sandwich here or a pizza slice there. But I'm not used to all this food preparation & it grates on me after a couple of weeks of responsibility. So we went to Joe's & tried the signature appetizer - dollar-sliced potatoes spiced & deep fried, served with sour cream for dipping & cheese baked on top. It is one of the saltiest, greasiest things I've ever eaten...the kind of dish that should be restricted to people under 45. And it made me sick, eventually. Let me tell you, there is nothing like being sick to your stomach, knowing you will be sick again but being unable to avoid the big-ass hill between you & home. That's why we were in the university building, to use the facilities. On the way out we wandered by the computer centre, and seeing no one around, decided to take one of the free Valley apples on offer & inquire about Sympatico disks. They were there waiting for us, unannounced. (As were a whole bunch of computer science types, the kind of guys I love to be around. It's like being in a comic book store - even if we never say anything meaningful to each other, I still feel the geek static electricity & am obscurely comforted.) To sum up: now we have a home account & are well on our way to fixing our jones for internet play time. (That has to be the most boring story I've told yet. Holy cow. Could I get farther bogged down in meaningless detail?) This has been a strange weekend, albeit a quiet one. When we got here, we played the stereo non-stop - maybe it was a hold over from the constant disk spinning of the journey, maybe it was a reaction to our lovely new space. In any case, we've quieted down a fair bit. The teevee, only receiving 3 channels these days, is usually off as well. That leaves the occasional noise: sound effects of the Boy's various video games, the sounds of household chores, the whirrr of the bathroom fan and the rustling of papers as I try to organize my life around the demands of my faculty. I sneeze in the living room, nodding over a text on English pedagogy; by the second or third sneeze the Boy blesses me from the study. After an interminable period of silence our heads pop up & we call for reassurance: "hello?" "hey!" Our little apartment has become an island, which is the way I want it. It's sanctuary. But as it's the sanctuary of the Boy & I, it's bound to be a weird place. We have two glossy photographs on the way in. One is of Felix Potvin. The other is of Edward Scissorhands. That pretty much sums it up. I'm finding it difficult not to babble. Also: I can't figure out something of substance to write about. So I'm going to stop, tie it off here & try for lucidity tomorrow. See you then.