Yer humble host in 1996…

Three years ago today was the official “grand opening” of Planet SOMA.

Needless to say, things have changed somewhat. All in all, it’s been an interesting three years. I’ve met interesting people, been interesting places, and actually forged a bit of a career out of this “web thing”.

Thanks to everyone who’s visited over the years, sent email of support (or dissent), hosted me on a road trip, consented to sleep with me, or just hung out with me in sleazy diners. And thanks to Trey for creating the first blatant infringement on Planet SOMA’s name and layout. My lawyers would be contacting him soon had I not foolishly offered blanket permission. Damned Southern charm…

For the past two years, I’ve unveiled some great new feature or design for “anniversary day”. No such luck this year, although I’ve been tweaking the design for a month or so (and am pretty much done for now) and I DID add that search engine last week.

So I’ll just say “thanks” again and hope you stop back by once or twice in the next three years.

(NOTE: The actual start date of Planet SOMA was 13 January 1996. 2 March was celebrated as the anniversary for the first few years because of some milestone I’ve since forgotten, maybe the addition of the hot counter.)

Dang. It sure is quiet in here…

OK, so everyone’s really sick of reading about my new adventures setting up housekeeping alone. No one cares that I now own my own vacuum cleaner for the first time since 1989. Everyone’s lost interest in my trendy new cookware and my new shower curtain and matching bath towels from Target. And everyone’s really pissed that I seem to have stopped answering email.

Too damned bad. That, and a disturbing amount of work, is about all that’s going on for me right now.

The highlight of my weekend was a shopping excursion with Sarah to the thrift stores and strange closeout warehouses of Redwood City. I bought Drano and forks and bowls. I deviated from the domestic theme by picking up this really great beat-up army jacket. I also found a cool mug which says “no smoking”. I fully intend to use it as an ashtray.

But the real find was the Arabic box of Dream Whip you see above. It’s comforting to know that if I ever find myself in the heat of the Middle East longing for instant non-dairy whipped topping, I’ll probably be able to find it.

Coming tomorrow: my hastily-composed Planet SOMA Third Anniversary Address. Coming the next day: more exciting stories of domestication, including a euphoric essay on my new chair.

Why yes, my life IS a bit tedious this week, thank you…

Today’s revelation: moving sucks, even when you’re not the one moving.

Actually, Dan got out in near-record time, with a big boost this morning from his mom and dad who probably would rather have spent their vacation in San Francisco doing something else.

Now all that remains is the fallout. This is a great time to do things like completely vacuuming all the floors for the first time since 1992. I need to rewire some phones. I need to get an additional line installed. And I get to sort through all my collected crap as I decompress it to fill more space.

And a sofa and some chairs might be nice…

I’ve already reclaimed the kitchen, even though I have plenty of skillets and cake pans but not a single saucepan. Last night I mopped parts of the floor I’d never even seen before. I’ve cleaned up all the strange 60’s dishes I’ve been picking up in thrift stores and keeping in the basement until I had room for them. I’ve moved the crock pot out of the cabinet.

All in all, I think everything will work out OK, although the whole thing still feels a little weird.

Wow. As of Thursday, I’ll be living completely alone for the first time in almost ten years. This is a strangely creepy feeling, although I didn’t really expect it to be.

For those of you who just joined the saga, I’ve had the same roomie for pretty much the entire 6 1/2 years I’ve lived in San Francisco. He’s buying a house, and I’m too damned cranky to break in someone new at this point in my life. Prior to moving here, I’d “re-nested” with Mom and Dad in Greensboro for three years while I went back to school.

Which means, again, that this is my first time completely alone since I left Charlotte in 1989. I’ve always preferred living on my own. I’m just a little bit out of practice.

For the next few weeks I get to deal with all the minor irritants like getting the utilities switched over to my name, and passing around my new phone number. I have to buy pots and pans and some more dishes, which is a shame since I have a lot of them in storage back home. I have to get a sofa and a desk, and a few lamps. I’ll be losing one of my favorite ashtrays.

The big benefit, of course, will be all the extra space. I’ll be able to store things. I’ll have an actual office and a guest room (sort of). I’ll be able to walk around the house in my skivvies. I’ll be able to watch porn with the volume turned up without fear of embarrassment. Should I ever have sex again, it can be really noisy sex involving multiple rooms.

It’ll be strange, though. I’ll keep you posted…