I know, these two posts below this are annoying. They’ll rotate off soon enough, I just don’t know how to FTP into blogspot. If anyone knows, drop me a line.
Just trying to index things so they’re easy to find.
(one of my pet peeves is people not understanding the differences between there, their, and they’re)

Despite what the illustrious Dooce says, eventually I am going to write about my job, and the last one, and the one before that. I just got a great laugh outa her blog.

Thought I Might Mention

I received The Time-Traveler’s Wife as one of my presents on Wednesday, and I’ve totally doven into it. Unlike Lightness of Being the naration in this novel is non-existant. The whole story is narrated by the two main characters. I’m very impressed with it so far, and I’ll post more as I get further along.

A Brand-Spankin-New Poem

In the close-leaned alleys
of Zaragoza, outside the hotel
rented for the shower and private
pulp walls, and the breeze across
open skylights of the top floor.
Not for the view, all TV antennae and
medieval church steeples of brown
and black stone. In the alley
the hotel empties on silver-worn
cobblestones, and there, beside
a miniature studio-apartment stove,
is Jeremy in his white sailor’s
liberty uniform versus the dingy
dusty rusted stove. One hand
leans on top as he bends over
in the manner all our generation
knows: the way that bemoans,
I have drank a recoculous amount
of alcohol at the Irish Bar, and here
I stand/lean/crouch/stumble/sway
in a sootened alley on silver
cobblestones smelling the foreign
sewage, wasted.

The first day

Of classes finally over. I’m taking a Poetry and a Composition class, so I should be much more prolific during the semester. Also (hopefully) a lot less drunk.


I just woke up. Ended the night stumbling home. Haven’t been that drunk in years. Litterally. I think that things might be coalescing. However it’s spelled. I need to stop drinking so much all the time. More on that later.