The Measure

Sunday, Aug. 08, 2004 - 8:01 p.m.

Notes on signage

On the back of a trailerless semi truck on the freeway:

Don't You Just
Love It "NO"

I can't make any sense of this one. Perhaps it's supposed to be someone asking the trucker whether he loves being without a trailer, and he is responding "No, I don't love it. I miss my trailer." But why no question mark? Why the pale pink cursive lettering? Why?

The streets near L's (and now my) place of residence:

Byron
Marlowe
Shelley
Wordsworth
Milton

Got it? Yeah, I'll bet you do. I have walked on these streets numerous times, smiling pleasantly at the street signs, and not until today did I stop dead in the road, mouth open, and realize that there was a theme to the names. I ran home to tell L, knowing all the time that he would already have figured it out, and of course he had, months ago.

There is nothing like a clean computer. Today L's brother set up a wireless connection here at the house, and I reinstalled the hard drive on my laptop. I feel like my mind has been scoured inside. Clean, clean hard drive. No more dusty corners. No more hunching over my desk in the dark apartment with my dialup connection. I am on the screened porch; I can smell the basil from the garden.

There are, however, boxes all over the place. I barely unpacked anything all weekend. And it's going to be a long, long week.

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