Maybe you've lost everything in the flood
But God hasn't shed your blood
Maybe its your turn to lead the twon (sp)
Get it all turned around

Keep the people from going astray
Keep them toward the steeple everyday
Sin caused your town to end this way
But God can replace it day by day

God came to me in a dream and said he'd protect my daughter forever
But I bet I'll have to look out for the weather
So I don't think we'll have a war
But a depression could even our score

Our country has been good in many ways
Helped third world countrys have brighter days
But a depression could turn us around
And we'd definitely find higher ground

For now help each other fix tires
You might even have to find clothesline wire
And for now Thank God your alive
And always reafirm you'll survive.

Your perfect
God made you

Love yourself over and over and no one can hurt you and you won't hurt anyone else either.

Hell'
Ecclesiastes 9;5
The dead know nothing when their (sp) not alive.

My uncle died for an hour on the operating table and say nothing cource (sp) he was hooked up to machines. My girlfriend went into a coma and saw God. I tried to comit (sp) suicide and slept for 4 days but my dreams say theres a purgatory and it has to be that cause we meet our loved ones there. Ha Ha

Drinkin can cause Stinkin thinkin.



(and a $2 donation as well. What a poet!)

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trying not to go where PetRock is.

battening down the hatches. this is the worst i've ever seen it here. trees snapping, large objects airborne, rain sheeting sideways, power outages every few minutes. then there is the sick cat at the vet, the duck in the bathtub, the waterfowl guru on the phone when it is working, no available vehicle as if i could leave anyway, not enough split wood as usual, have to get a dinner for 70-80 people ready by this weekend, the hounds are cooped up too long and beginning to squabble loudly.

on the other hand, there is plenty of chocolate, we are all safe and warm, i haven't permanently lost my connection.

Swine, my dear, are you planning to bring that thing up here? if so, i need to prepare an Environmental Impact Report in time. we will not get away with a FONSI on this one. thank dog i have all the specs from your previous notice, so i can fill out the technical part. but be prepared to take mitigation measures in accordance with the findings.

watching the snow fall and the bald eagles play.

worried about Petrock.

*g*

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looking at some pictures i just got developed and laughing mostly

mourning the death of my space heater, which passed away peacefully this morning while attempting to bring the temperature of my office up to a level that will allow the ink in my pens to return to a liquid state.

Really likin' this new ICQ99 shit..cool new features AND sending and recieving voice messages...what next.

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thinking mark must have been shopping for diamonds

telling Jimbo to fear not.

Just an example of some free-form poetry that we received in the mail the other day. And don't forget that it came with a whopping $2 check.

As for me, I'm listening to U2 and eating soup.

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listening to a bootleg tape of James Brown in Lincoln City, Oregon on January 15th 1999.

I thought I had heard funk. Clearly I was previously operating with a dangerously inadequate frame of reference.

At 65 years old, the man can git down to bidness better than anyone else alive today. Believe me, you have not lived if you haven't heard "Get Up Offa That Thang". Can i get a witness?

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the jew with the grey beard has his left hand on a small .25 automatic pistol. the briefcase in his right hand contains a half kilo of fine german heroin and two twenty ounce flasks of water stolen from the sanctuary of the Holy Trinity Catholic Church. he and the red beard jew drank the bottle of sacramental wine during the cab ride from Elmira Heights.

the woman in the left side of the picture is Agent Glennis O'Leary, United States FBI. her right arm is held rigidly to her side to hide the swing of the sawed off double barreled four-gauge, loosely harnessed under her coat with a leather shoulder strap. the barrels are sawed off such that the cartridges are flush with the end of the barrels. no choke, baby. Agent O'Leary prefers this because when everyone has been hit it is easier to start making kill shots with the HK .40 she keeps strapped to the small of her back.

the red bearded jew in the right of the picture, of course, is talking to a sorabjiite.

waiting for the index book to update

oh swine, i have so much to teach you.

i first saw James Brown at the War Memorial Auditorium in Sacramento, CA in 1967. This is the part I am Not Making Up: he opened for Simon & Garfunkle.

The audience was a fabulous mix of fans of both, and everyone learned something. My first exposure to The Famous Flames. next time was at a Doors concert at the Forun in L.A.

last time was in a restaurant on Sunset Boulevard in about 1971, one of the periods when he wasn't in jail. i was having chili and he was working the room, (actually the sidewalk, it was Sunset Plaza).

this is my testimony.

Telling Sheila to:

GEDDOWN OFFA THAT MOUN-TAIN!

IT'LL MAKE-A
YOU FEEL BET-TAH!

Really. You deserve some sand & sun & warm weather. Book a flight & take a vacation for a week or so. The goats & geese will live -- they got along fine for aeons before humans started tending to them.

I regret never having had the privilege of seeing The Godfather live. Or Sarah Vaughn either/for that matter.

But there's still hope/ since James is still around. And not currently incarcerated.

really sheila. are you confusing me with swine? (don't look swine, you'll have an anuerism.) take a closer look at that post sheila. i do think the hard winter is getting to you.

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i did not mean to confuse sarah with swine. i'm so sorry. i need to get off the mountain and off my high horse.

i'm a wreck. the geese are keeping me up all night with their incessant fucking. the snow is really deep, everything is dark. swinery has invaded my senile brain. there's a name for it: Seasonal Swinish Disorder or SAD.

I'll get over it when the daffies bloom, in a few weeks.

amy sincere regrets to anyone i have inadvertently offended. to those i have advertently offended, piss off.

lighting incense of indeterminate aroma, putting on some Coltrane, reading Krazy Kat cartoons, drooping.

wondering why the picture on the front page of this site is making me intensely homesick for new york. i dont know what about it got to me, but suddenly i could taste the need in my throat. and really, it's not that i live terribly far--under a hundred miles away, but i might as well be in nome or burkina faso because everything here is different and the very way that i *am* is put down to 'you have to expect that from her, she's from brooklyn'.

no matter where i live or how long im gone, i will always be a new yorker. it can be burned out of my mind, never out of my blood.

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I'm feeling the same way Asia is. Though not a native New Yorker, I miss that city so much. Those people in the photograph made me want to be there right now.

New York is invading my daydreams now. I lived there. Here, I am rapidly fading.

reflecting on what a great morning it's been. A few inches of fresh snow last night - you know, the kind that sticks to absolutely every twig and pine needle, no matter how small - followed by a cold, clear night sky punctuated with a waning sliver of moon. The result was a bright, blue world at 4:30 this morning where you could see everything clearly for miles as though it were daylight. It seemed a shame to have to ruin it by turning on the headlights and driving to work.

Today is spectacularly sunny.

scanning profiles of excavations

i'm missing new york too. really, i am missing any damn city at all. life is so passive here.

i'm also out of toilet paper.

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Killing time at the job before reinstalling NT on some dumb box...I have a date tonight and am looking forward to it.

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http://members.tripod.com/~wmhp

"AP Newswire NEW YORK--Tragedy struck at a popular Manhattan nightclub Saturday, when the roof, the roof, the roof of The Tunnel caught fire, collapsing and killing 43 party people.

According to fire-department officials, the death toll was exacerbated by the clubgoers' unwillingness to evacuate the burning building. I tried shouting to the people on the dance floor that the roof was on fire and that they should exit the premises immediately, but they seemed unfazed by the danger," firefighter Michael Pitti said. "I just kept shouting, 'The roof! The roof! The roof is on fire!' and so forth, but they just went right on dancing, insisting that they didn't need any of our water and that we should let the motherf****r burn."

The party people's refusal to exit the flame-engulfed nightclub is widely believed to have been the result of DJ Doug "E" Fresh's unstoppable mix of the hottest house, funk, hip-hop, disco, jungle and techno beats. "DJ Doug "E" Fresh was spinning in a manner so hot, these party people were willing to give up their lives for a few extra minutes on the dance floor," New York City fire commissioner Thomas Von Essen said. "Even as a 50-foot-high wall of flames surged toward them, they continued to dance, throwing their hands in the air and waving them as if they just didn't care."

As flames continued to fill the nightclub, firefighters frantically urged the revelers to keep low to the ground to avoid smoke inhalation, but the warnings were universally ignored. "I was screaming at the top of my lungs, 'Get down! Get down, party people!'" said Garry Hodges of Ladder Company 42, "but the more I shouted out, the harder they danced."

Though an FDNY investigation is still pending, the deadly blaze is believed to have begun at 11:40 p.m., when a roof-mounted ventilation system short-circuited, igniting the motherfucker. The fire is New York's deadliest since 1978, when 117 party people burned, baby, burned to death in a South Bronx disco inferno."

Looks like someone's been hitting "The Onion" again.

at work, yet ... not working.

imagine that.

go ahead. just fucking imagine that.

here i am. at my desk. and not working.

just like the rest of the fuckers. goddamn them fuckers. never do a lick of work. all their hell rests on my shoulders. i hate you fuckers. i hate each and every one of you.

and now i am one of you. i am a fucker.

and i am here. not working. yet at work.

sending in the straightjackets and thorazine.

i think we have a breakdown on line one.

ending the insane cycle of "yamaha cs2x or roland jx 305 or yamaha cs2x or roland jx305 or yamaha cs2x..." that has been spinning through my head for the past couple days.

the catharsis?
this review:

" I don�t want to be too po-faced about all this because the JX-305, at the end of the day, is
a really good laugh. It�s just that when I pay nearly �1,000 for a good laugh I expect to
wake up in bed with about three other people and possibly at least one farm animal...Equally, if I pay nearly a grand for a piece of gear, I expect it to be absolutely brilliant, timeless and central to my set-up. I�m afraid that the 305 falls short on all counts. "

yamaha cs2x.

sheila can keep the farm animals.

sitting at work... doing nothing and getting paid for it...
found this page while laughing a funny videos on th net...
thats it...
concha tu madre...

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surf.to/backspace_69

i am sitting in front ofthis box, listening to Superchunk, thinking of ways to subvery the dominant paradigm. Or so I would have you believe. I am actually drinking a cheap domestic beer, wearing flannel pants, smoking a cigarette and thinking that i don't like that my fax machine is so close to my bed. I am wishing for something, in the most generic sense of the word(s).

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http://hoopla.com

Wondering why I aint missing my New York life??? I dont miss the cold..I dont miss the snow.....I dont miss the ice.....am I like retarded or what??

I love this warm weather.... I love these beautiful beaches... I love these gorgeous men.....

what is it that I dont miss in NY??? I cant think of one single reason.....

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Remembering.
Building.
Seeking confidence.
Hopefully.
Migrating.

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http://cs.siena.edu/grin

watching tv with the sound off and laughing at what i imagine the announcers to be saying

attempting to keep the love in the face of hate...
and failing.
bad time for this shit to fall into my spectrum.
i've gotta go pick up my friend johnny damage (a.k.a [ad infinitum]) from NWK in about six hours...
i should be asleep, but instead i'm ruminating about all that shit i gotta deal with...
fuck it.

"engine, engine number 3
let me ride and set me free
if i can't get on that train
i bring the pain
bring the pain
bring THE PAIN."

welcome to the drama.

attempting to keep the love in the face of hate...
and failing.
bad time for this shit to fall into my spectrum.
i've gotta go pick up my friend johnny damage (a.k.a [ad infinitum]) from NWK in about six hours...
i should be asleep, but instead i'm ruminating about all that shit i gotta deal with...
fuck it.

"engine, engine number 3
let me ride and set me free
if i can't get on that train
i bring the pain
bring the pain
bring THE PAIN."

welcome to the drama.

bleeding.

[email protected]

reading stuff here before i enter the chamber of excremeditation

Sitting in an office I don't like working for a company I don't like in a city I've come to discover I thoroughly dislike. This morning when I bent over to pick my laptop up out of the back seat of my boyfriend's car when he dropped me at work, my GORGE rose. This happened maybe two weeks ago when I told everyone I had the flu but really just wanted to stay home for two days. I thought at the time it was a little natural justice, but with this morning's episode I'm actually anxious; I didn't feel nauseated or anything, and suddenly there was barf in my mouth that I had to consciously choose to choke back. I'm trying to figure out how many isolated episodes constitute an actual health "issue," because if I can just settle on a likely number, I can blow off thinking about this until I hit that number. More than two, I think, but less than 5? Is it like a plane, the health plane, defined by 3 points of somatic rebellion/disobedience? Dude, I don't know but I DO know that barfing is bar none my least favourite thing I can do with my body. I'm trying to find a happy place to think about but all my happy places are really phrases of music I sing in my head, and the one I use as my Mantra (The Beatles "Across the Universe") actually puts me to sleep so that's out, and my pod neighbour has classic rock on and it's driving out the moments of crystalline purity archived in my memory as musical notes. Fuck. I wish I'd brought my meditative music to work with me so I could at least stick it on the pc's cd player and TRY to click my mental heels together three times.

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holy shit ,like, frick out mang.

Last night a coyote jumped the duck fence, snatched one of the Rouen hens, and took her to a den beneath a dead tree near the top of Buckhorn Peak. I know this because I followed the trail of blood. It was a surgical strike, in and out, not much of a wound because she didn't bleed out until the last part of the trail. I thought they were safe because this hasn't happened, because I have dogs, although they were not out last night, and I thought if anything happened in there I would hear it. Wrong wrong wrong. The Mallard drake is still in the bathtub, receiving medication and hand (force) feeding every few hours. He seems to feel ok, and isn't sickly, but he tips over. Dr. Tommi says it's an inner ear infection.

I spent all day down in the flats on Thursday, getting stuff for the benefit dinner tomorrow night. I feel that every time I leave here, something bad happens.

So I am sticking my finger down the duck's gullet, and into the cat's ear to get the gunk from the surgery out, and then tomorrow I am going to cook dinner for 70-80 people. I'll wear gloves, of course. This isn't so bad: when I worked with the mares, I had to stick my arm into them up to my elbow, every day.

I'm in such an awful state right now, I shouldn't be doing this. So I'll stop.

2/12/99, 1:32 PM
thoom is:

laughing.

when john, a guy i work with, came to work this morning he had a big grin on his face

"well," he said, "I did it. finally. packed up all my porn and got rid of it all this morning. cold fuckin' turkey."

john was never ashamed of his love of porn, and has shown me his movie and magazine collection a couple of times.

"glad to see you're fit to walk amongst us decent folk," i said as i sipped my coffe with a soupcon of whiskey in it. "Whadja do with it all, throw it in a dumpster?"

"Shit no!" he said, "why waste it? i left it at the high school."

i choked a bit on my coffee. "are you shitting me?"

"hell no," he said, earnestly. "why let it all go to waste just because i don't want it anymore. and i figure, why turn it over to some garbage men who probably get enough of it as it is when there are high school kids out there who'd enjoy it more."

"so didja leave it with the sex education teacher?"

"oh sure, leave it with some coach so he could hide it in his office and wack off during his free period. nah, i just left it in one of the student parking lots on my way here this morning. the whole pile of it. the little shits are gonna have a fiesta this weekend, i'll tell you what."

i expect they will.

"so," i said, "what are you going to do with your long lonely nights now?"

"dunno," he said. "drink, probably."

thinking now about how so many people can be so ass-blind about the pit that new york is. i fucking hate that place. ok, i spent an ok day and a half there once like 5 years ago or more and i was zonked way out of my mind on cold medicine and my ex-boyfriend (he was an ex- at the time, even) dragged me to get yogurt near the new school and some carrot salad thing at some alphabet city restaurant and made me sicker because it was SO SO SO cold that night, but that was one in several visits, and it was only cool because the cold medicine gave it an other worldly quality and significantly upped my personal zen. haven't you people ever been any place that actually kicks ass? baltimore? dc? pittsburgh? ann arbor? charlottesville? richmond? lexington? tucson? portland?

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pittsburgh "kicks ass"? portland? BALTIMORE??!??

shit.

that's funny.

thanks for the laugh.

checking the damp hole for a pulse.

"no ma'am, your opinions... well, let's just say... we have some too."

new york doesn't have a solid enough base of completely generic urban white trash culture to let oddities stand out. new york is sensory overload. i like places industry has abandoned, they have a ruined quality in the face of which actual people seem somehow tragic heroic. you new yorkers: you city really overwhelms you, the whole totally overshadowing the sum of its parts.
baltimore is my favorite place i've ever lived.
portland is my favorite place i've ever visited.
pittsburgh is my favourite place i've ever passed out on the streets.
you guys have better clothes, though.

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not going to bother.

yay for the horses' asses.

from the appearance of the droppings, i would guess they are fed cubes and grain, but no real, flaky hay.

well groomed, well carried, fine tails, stockings ultra white.

some one takes good care of these horses.

thank you for the picture.

realizing exactly how sick and wrong crazy joe and his friends are. for instance:

"i'm hanging out with joe's brother and he's telling me that when he and his high-school girlfriend were making out, she leaned back and said 'do what you want to me', so he fingered her.
ya see, that's the difference between high school and college.
when you're in high-school and your girlfriend says that, you finger her.
when you're in college and your girlfriend says 'do what you want with me', you dress up like a clown and beat her with a stick."

-alex collider

http://www.collider.com/

Contemplating exactly when I started to need Alison, as opposed to just wanting her...

going to The Eastern Market today.

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listening to ella in the morning. seems wrong.

Just waking up at 1:00 pm mountain time (mountain time SUCKS) wishing my tenure in this hell were over and i'd figured out a way to live relatively comfortably while paying off student loans without the death of a parent involved so I could return to civilized geographies and DO THAT instead of this wretched exile in the land of the two-time superbowl champion Denver Broncos whom I could not quietly despise more if they were the fucking yuppie neighbors across the street who hassle us about lawn care and called the city on us that time our trash collectors didn't pick up our trash for over a month and we had 29 bags of garbage by the curb instead of talking to us and finding out that we'd been on the phone with the trash company 3 times as day for a week and they kept reassuring us that they were on their way so we didn't dare put the trash back in the garage for fear they'd come and there would be nothing for them to collect. I fucking hate those fucking people.

stegmosaurus@yahoo.,com

watching Paris, Texas and thinking how much the little boy reminds me of a certain picture of Mark Thomas I saw once

Amazed that Sheila can tell a horse's eating habits from it's stockings. Ur-Babes Rule! (But what on earth wd she say if she ever saw my stocking drawer?)

Telling Peter that listening to Ella is always appropariate. At any time of day. Ella is always good for what ails ya. Nina too. (I'm listening to her now).

Wondering abt these
new-old friends Swine has acquainted himself with...? Hpoing bad company doesn't corrupt good habits.

Contemplating what to say to my Best Girl in NY when I call her tomorrow to tell her I can't be Maid of Honor at her wedding in May/becuz of my new job which was supposed-to-be- permanent-but-is- sounding-shakier-
every-day. I may be able to make it to the wedding/but if I do it will most likely be a last-minute bum-a-ride -on-a-charter-w/a-last-minute-cancellation deal. I missed her 1st wedding (which wasn't a real wedding in any sense of the word) becuz I didn't know her back then. I don't wanna miss this one/becuz she's really in love w/a really wonderful man/& having a proper wedding in a church & everything.. But my financial future is running on a week-by-week schedule at this point.
And even if that weasel @ PageNet
keeps his word/ talking him into giving me a week's vacation from May 26 - June 6 so I can get there in time to have my dress fitted/stand up for her on her May 30th/& stay w/her kids while she & her groom are off on their honeymoon/he'll proabaly make me take it w/out pay. Or want to take it out in trade... (He's the worst fucking lech I've ever encountered -- thank God he's rarely in our office!)

And I was so loking forward to spending a week in NY in the Spring & catching up w/my homies. I don't miss The City or the subways or the crime or the assholes on the streets. But I definitely miss eating lunch on the steps of the NY Public library... outdoor concerts @ Grant's Tomb... walking thru the Village on a Sat. nite & watching the freaks come out.. The Garage in all it's glory... (Bboy am I dating myself!)
Those were great days & nites...

Now/NY is no fun unless you have tons of $$. Or a famous website.

Or you're madly in love & just being together makes everything magic/so $$ doesn't matter...
And is any of us THAT young anymore?

still awake when he should damn well be asleep.
must be all hopped-up on margasweetas and microbrew.
digging listening to the soundtrack of Crooklyn and wondering how mikey jackson could've gone so wrong as to thing it was better to look like a white woman rather than a black man... whatever. hopefully he'll work it out with freud when they both meet down in hell.
and R.C., old/new friends aren't giving me any habits... crazy joe is the guy who works next to me everyday. yeah, he's a nutcase... but we're all a bit crunchy like that. and although i've only met him once, i trust alex's statement was more out of weirdness than any kind of misogynsitic violence... am i making any kind of sense? who the fuck knows. i'm gonna crash the fuck out...

right..
about...
now.....

see ya in the better dreams.

just getting back from a blind date. i actually had a really great time. he's charming, employed, stable, and (get this!) he's not married or otherwise engaged.

the only thing that worries me is that he drinks milk. i guess i didn't realize people still do that. so i'm just going to take this one slow. i mean, i'm sorry, but anyone who drinks milk is suspect.

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searching for the perfect (i.e. least intrusive and/or misunderstandable) sonnet to send to my favorite person on St.V Day. It must be pointed but not too sharp, open to interpretation but not speculation, one that means something not only to me. So I'll be sitting by the fire reading her, eating the leftover chocolate, probably drifting of from time to time. It was a grueling night.

This could take all day, and it's a recovery day from the dinner at which we made quite a few $$$ for animals.

I thought I was the only person who had horse droppings in her stocking drawer, but I guess not.

At my father's funereal, the arranger guy said, hey sheila, you have hay on your shoes, want to brush that off before we start?

Happy Valentine Day.

for sheila:

do you remember a single blossom that defied the frost- to tell you that tomorrow will be even more beautiful than today- if you remember this and this alone- you have no reason to fear this great mystery that is life- for you hold its secret deep within your heart.

my grampa wrote that, not the perfect valentine, but the one i chose for you.

going to winlock today. egg pictures coming soon.

sarah, milk is good food.

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Wondering precisely where Sarah's blind date w/a milk-drinker took place? I mean/ location matters here. Was he drinking milk at dinner? No one shd be too grown up to order milk w/their dessert/IMHO. (Esp. if it is something chocolate.) Now, if he ordered milk at a bar/I'd have my doubts. Does he not drink becuz he doesn't like liquor (i.e. a teetotaler/& therefore immediately suspect)/or becuz liquor doesn't like him? (i.e. a reformed alcoholic/in which case not drinking is an act of self- preservation.)

Now, for the big question: What did he do abt his milk moustache? Did he wipe it off after each sip? Or let is sit there like a little kid? Or was he really suave & using a straw?

In any case/he sounds interesting. Let us know how yr 2nd date goes.

(Just think -- someone @ Sorabji met someone nice on Valentine's Day eve...
Good for you, Sarah!)

Sending a big, sweet kiss to Blindswine/& wishing His Markness & everyone else at the Sorabji Asylum a Happy Valentine's Day.

just finishing the last of my little stockpile of chocolate pop-tarts. and musing how right sarah is, i am freaked out also watching adults drink milk. i think of it as a nourishing drink for infants, and a terrific start to cheese, and maybe a good thing to dollop in coffee that's too hot if there's no ice handy. but i don't like it sraight, and that's why i had thta falling out with cereal all those years ago: it just doesn't taste right in water, but all you have left over if you use milk is even grosser milk.

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bring back the horses' asses. looking at the Hotel Carter makes me want to climb to the roof where the big sign is, and jump.

maybe that's the point, eh?

Back at the same hateful job on Monday morning (every Monday -- when I call out sick I NEVER do it on Monday or Friday) slugging back the same thin and nasty free coffee feeling the same feelings of helplessness I used to attribute to the evils of capitalism in general when I had energy to be angry, but which I now know just have to do with my own critical lack of ambition and drive. I just won't work more than 40 hours a week at a job. Any job. Did it once, and was continually exhausted and no richer. To hell with that!

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Flying american airlines on wednesday for work. I'm going to Florida but I'm not sure if I should be excited or not. Spending 3 days away with people I work with is just too frightening. I think I'll need to find a bar somewhere, put on some shorts and drink fruity drinks with umbrellas in them. While giving New Yorkers a bad name.

The best part of going away though is that feeling you get when you land at LaGuardia and drive back to Manhattan. I always feel like an old year old coming back home. Though getting a little space from my girlfriend right now will be pretty nice too, seeing as she continues to creep precariously close to the edge of a nervous breakdown.

Hey swine, you get that cs2x yet?

Anybody know any good bars in the Tampa/Sarasota area?

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Telling Billy that if he's going to be in the Tampa area, he should make the 35 minute trip to Tarpan Springs and check out the Sponge Docks and the bars around here.

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sounds good...
I think now I'm staying in Sarasota. Is that closer or farther away?

That's of course assuming I manage to get their on American at all.

Getting ready to go do my mandatory photocopying (I'd rather be on my knees saying "Our Fathers" and "Hail Marys" until my knees bled). Trying to think how I can negotiate this scanty snowfall into a reason to leave 2 hours early (in another 45 minutes!). Once again choking back vomit for no apparent reason. And thinking that Mark went to college about 45 minutes away from me and was a scant year behind me, and maybe he knew some of the people I knew who went to Oberlin -- although I understand there's some sort of distinct social sets involving conservatory and non-conservatory. In fact, I took my GREs at Oberlin the day after I got engaged. Ruh Roh, here comes the bile again, rising in my throat like a memory, churning up the chyme like a new emotion.

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Sarasota is further away...I think it's alot further away actually. American is a little fucked right now but I think they are correcting things.

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Thinking Sarasota must be a pretty interesting place. One of my first crushes came from Sarasota and I always thought a place that could produce him must be pretty special.

And then I realized how bland and unimaginative he was...

Oh well.

drilling a hole in Lucy's first egg of this year, to evacuate the contents.

it's very pointy at both ends, as if she really s q u e e z e d it out.

Leander is strutting about shaking his tailfeathers, so proud of himself.

Hey, Leander, it was Lucy that made the egg.

E-mailing Billy a list of some spots for great eats in Sarasota!

And wondering abt Sheila's egg-drilling ritual? Umm, aren't you supposed to let the goose sit on it until it hatches? Didn't she get pissed when you took away her egg?

Are goose eggs good w/a side of bacon & coffee?

There's the damn dryer buzzer -- I wonder if there's a way to disconnect that fucking thing & still get the dryer to stop before my clothes burn up...