If you’re gonna have an evil cat, don’t name it “Forgiveness.”

22 03 2007

The smoothies were good.  Yeah, how was your day?  Yeah, mine was fine.  Driving home.  All of the cross streets turned to schools, and they stood on stage, purple trophies were what they gave.  You held my hand.  You asked me why I wanted to stay.  “But there’s no way to believe all the things I don’t say to you.”–Jim Infantino


The best week of camp ever

15 08 2006

…is off to a solid but not a rocket ship start.

A trip back to the Montana Cube is sorely needed.

Ben prolly won’t show.

Shirts and ties, I don’t have.

The pirate tatoos from Ben’s wedding may come in handy, more than the Diego Rivera tats that I was jealous of.

Bots are fun to kill but getting up to that sleazy side-of-the-road club would have been better.

My HM bracelet keeps me strong.

I am suddenly popular with the late-arriving LA kids, which is trouble waiting to happen.  So is the reappearance of last year’s nightmare quartet, now back for basketball or tennis or whatever other thing camp.

In which I continue to wonder who’s looking at what.

9 08 2006

First “View from the cheap seats” and “comics”

Then “v for vendetta” and “study questions”

Which one of the 8 of you got here by web-stalking me?

I suppose I should be smug about being the third rated page on Ask.com for the question “How do you spell the sound a chicken makes” although that’s actually a killoggs page that I commented on…

But seriously that and the person who searched for “clothing cloture” really makes me wonder who’s looking for what out there.

At the same time, a sheen of sweat is rising across my brow as the afternoon sun hits the right angle through the back window to make this office a heat-trap oven; and I recall wondering this morning whether I should stick with my fledgling idea for NaNoWriMo–a series of vignettes and moments, mostly dialogues, set in school environments, titled “Who Knows Who,”  or go back to my idea for a Little Prince sequel…  And then again, I never really did get “Walking back the cat” off the ground last year so I could remount it with no qualms.

One of the staff kids was here, tip tapping away at the electric typewriter, and I took pains to show the benefits of proper touch-typing practice, and also to explain the common fence-post error in citing the current century.

Right over his little head, mostly, but amusing for both of us anyway.