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nightmare on calle "c" | 2002-01-29 - 11:50 a.m. Ay, dios! What terrible visions assailed me in my dreams last night! Horror upon horror. Terror upon terror. I must have been screaming in my sleep because when I awoke, trembling and lachrymose, el H. de P. (the landlord) was pounding on the door and telling me to keep it down or he'd call the cops. What -- or who -- brought these nightmares on, you ask? Perhaps it was la virgen, castigandome for my complicidad in the Curly's Pie Hole phlegm affair. Or maybe it was the Diet Coke I drank while watching the first installment of the much-hyped Rose Red espetacular. Whatever the cause, I can tell you Rose Red had nothing to do with it. That overhyped piece of caca was nowhere near as scary as it was supposed to be. You want espantoso, watch the promo for Good Morning America with those animatronic puppets Diane Sawyer and Charlie Gibson cavorting around and pretending to act like humans. *That,* hijos, will make your hair stand on end. De todos modos, I guess I should say how the nightmare went, since everybody else in Diarylandia talks about theirs. Here goes: It had been a long time -- too long -- since I had last logged on to Diarylandia. Muchas horas. Endless, difficult horas, in which I was left wondering whether Inarticulate would finally consent to sing on her friend's album and whether Midnighthope's familial visit would end in violence. �Mi problema? Every time I tried to get into Diaryland, I would end up in "Dairyland," a website dedicated to the by-products of vacas. I will admit that computers have always been un poco mystifying to me, but this latest malfunction was particularly puzzling. It made no sense! It was arbitrary and unwarranted! I sensed that Bill Gates was somehow at the bottom of it, although in retrospect I guess that was un poco injusta of me. I will say that I learned more about queso in those few, angst-ridden hours than I would have ever thought possible. Que producto m�s fascinante. At last, on my forty-first try, just when I was about to pick up the keyboard and ram it through the monitor in frustration,the soothing pastel hues of Diarylandia appeared on my screen. Que felicidad! "I'm in," I told myself, feeling as elated as a cat burgular who has just picked his way into the vault at Tiffany's. Excitedly, I began typing. The first thing I went to check was my list of buddies. To my dismay, there were no new updates. "This cannot be," I thought, but there it was, in black and lavender. "Not-A-Finger updated 11716 days ago," the screen said. I knew, as you always know in los sue�os, that this couldn't be the case -- it had only been 1716 days since Not-A-Finger's last update -- but I was powerless to do anything about it. I began to search Diarylandia blindly, trying to find some glimmer of life, some vestige of the Diarylandia I had known and loved so much before this chingado nightmare began. I came across numerous diaries I had never seen before, but todos were of the "like, this entry is soooo borrrrring and if you don't like it, fuck off" variedad. In my despair I visited a Diarylandia chat room, but the people there all seemed to know each other and were speaking some idioma known only to themselves, an experience chillingly similar to my first few semanas in the United Estates. Desesperada, I went to check my stats. Nada, nothing. Not one single hit in several days. Aaaiiii! My nightmare culminated when, like a hungry dog compelled to eat its own vomit, I finally decided to re-read one of my own entries. Imagine my horror when, instead of pulling up the soothing pabulum of my own words, I got a "Can't connect to database" error. Ay, que noche m�s horrible. Gracias a la santissima virgen, it was only a dream.
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pride and prejudice - 2004-09-07
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Diary Rings |
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member of the scorpio diaryring: next - prev - random - list - home - Diaryland member of the snobs diaryring: next - prev - random - list - home - Diaryland we live sweat but dream light years | d*land wage slaves: next - prev - random - list - home - Diaryland member of the love-is-pain diaryring: next - prev - random - list - home - I'll Dance on His Mutilated Corpse - Diaryland Living Abroad - the expat diaryring: next - prev - random - list - home - Diaryland |
