Stacy Horn

Oh God. I’m shaking. I just got off the phone with this place called The Gourmet Depot. I called to ask when the replacement coffee carafe I had ordered would arrive because I thought it would be here by now and the person I spoke to was horrible. He said they didn’t actually have the carafe, it was back ordered and when I asked why they didn’t tell me that when I ordered it he said they emailed me the next day. I checked my mail and just in case, I checked my junk mail and there was no email. (In fact no way, I emailed them yesterday to find out when it was going to ship and I hadn’t heard back and that was why I called.)

He asked me if I wanted to cancel the order and at that point that wasn’t the issue and he said something rude, and I said something back, my voice going up an octave. This happens when I get upset. He said he wasn’t going to talk to me if I was going to scream, which I hadn’t done! And I said so. He said it was a “little bit of a scream,” which might have been funny if he hadn’t already been rude and if he had tacked on an “but I’m sorry if I was brusque.” I asked if he had a boss and he said he was the boss. When I said I wasn’t happy with his service he said he didn’t care! He actually said that. “I don’t care.”

So don’t shop here, because they officially don’t care! There’s probably a lot of places with this name, this is an appliance outfit in San Francisco. Except, now I’m thinking if the boss is answering phone calls about shipping the night before Thanksgiving maybe business is really bad and the poor guy is just at the end of his rope. So total jerk or some poor guy about to go under? But when he said he didn’t care he sounded really pleased and amused by himself and then said the most insincere “you have a happy holiday” type thing, and hung up on me. No. I’m going for jerk.

In the meantime, here is a not very well focused picture of the people who were lined outside the Marc Jacob store a few hours ago in the rain.

Even though I have work to do, we all have work to do, doesn’t it feel like the holidays begin today? Oh! Maybe I should put up Christmas decorations later.

I keep meaning to post about why I want the 9/11 terrorists tried here, but I just don’t have the energy yet.

Here’s the subway picture I took yesterday that I’m so happy with. I was coming up out of the subway at Christopher Street. I just lucked out color-wise here.

If you grew up with the Wizard of Oz, you’re drawn to the ruby slippers. The allure cannot be denied. I could never even wear these, but there I was, stopped, staring and taking a picture.

I’m home waiting for a Fresh Direct delivery. In that delivery is a pumpkin pie, which I cannot wait to eat. Hurry Fresh Direct!! Please bring me my pumpkin pie!

UPDATE: It’s here!! I’m eating pie right now!!

UPDATE 2: I realized I had time to get uptown to the library and back before choir. Which I did! I’m back now.

I get this beautiful shot just looking up out of the subway at Christopher Street, at the lavender sky. I can’t wait to post it. It will be the next shot that goes up.

So I call up the library to make sure the thing I need is really there, because it’s kinda obscure and I think it might be offsite, and the finding aid I used didn’t say. Nope, it’s here, they assure me. You can already guess what happened when I got up there. It’s offsite. It’s not a problem really, I had other work to do and I don’t mind making another trip back.

I read a short piece on Salon about how sexy Rahm Emanuel is and I agree 1,000 percent. No, a million percent.

I’m exhausted. Working at the Grace Church archives exhausts me. I think because they keep it very cold and I’m tense and shivering slightly the whole time.

I have more work to do, but I’m not sure I’m going to get to it. Tired. Christ. Would Rahm Emanuel work for a few hours at the Grace Church Archives and then call it a day? No he would not. He go on and write a book, attend six meetings, make 48 phone calls, broker 9 agreements of one sort or another, help his kids with their homework (or are they grown kids?) and after dinner, dance a few numbers from West Side Story to relax. (Oh why oh why is he happily married??)

I mean come on. Look at him! I know I’ve posted pictures of Finney up here on the TV before, but it’s a favorite spot of his. Here he is, my little sunlight-basker.

I could probably make big $$$ renting him out. There’s a big market for cat rentals, right?