Wednesday, July 18, 2001


Have you ever had a conversation with someone whom you thought was cool and suddenly, without warning, you revised your opinion of them mid-stream?

Have you ever thought about one of your friends whom you liked a great deal but haven't seen for some time only to realize that they really aren't your friend and in fact never were?

Are there things long-forgotten by all concerned except yourself that still make you cringe and burn with shame?

It would be lovely if failure was a desirable thing. Giving up is the dicate of many religions, and yet is the thing that makes us feel the worst.

Oh boy! The design winners for Blogger have created some really lovely templates. Look for them in a neigborhood next to yours soon.

I'm staying the fuck away from the computer today and probably tomorrow too.

Except for now, of course...

Tuesday, July 17, 2001

One more day, now, and the Haley comes home. I have never been so excited in my life, truly!

Tomorrow it's the marathon of cleaning and picking up dogshit and doing yardwork. I think I can deal...
Just got off the phone with Haley in London. She's home in a day or so.

I'm pretty drunk right now, and although I cannot type for shit I will say that I have been reminded tonight of the magic that runs through my life. I may have lost and lost big at poker, but the paltry cash could not buy a moment of tonight, not if you added ten zeroes.

The world is what you make it, and what you see, and what you remember.

Dear God, let me always remember the wonder and joy I feel right now.

(the gin headache, though...)

Monday, July 16, 2001

Let me say this: I fucking hate Microsoft.

It is so, so shitty.

I have used every almost MS operating system: DOS, Win95, 98 NT, 2000... they ALL suck. Huge, complicated pieces of shit that lock up and crash. Easily hacked, imeensely (and needlessly) complex, ugly and ubiquitous.


Yes, yes, you guessed it. I did not save the animation I have been working on all morning and POW, the box froze and ALL IS GONE.

Woe is me.


Microsoft: it's not that it's everywhere. It's not that it's shit. It's that it's everywhere and it's shit.

Sunday, July 15, 2001

Stop, Dave. My mind is going.
I spent the day with my father. Late, after some wine, he read me a poem by Theodore Roethke about his father and his voice cracked, tears streaming down his face. I squeezed his arm and drank deeply. I love you, dad, I said.

Later still, after dinner, he was in tears over a joke about a redneck hotel. How do you tell that it's a redneck hotel? You call down to the desk and say, "I got a leak in the sink" and they say, "Go right on ahead."

I spent the day in the back of a car reading J.R.R. Tolkien aloud to my stepmother, dad and daughter. I walked where I will be married six weeks hence. I put my feet in the cold pacific. I watched my stepbrother clench his fist as he made up his mind about his future. I have a pocketful of seashells.

I said goodbye to my daughter, my weekly goodbye that never gets easier no matter how much I practice.

My dogs are glad to see me; they have destroyed nothing although I've been gone all day.

Haley is right now in London and may call any moment. I have not talked to her in days and miss her as I would miss one of my senses.

Saturday.

This was Saturday.