Sometimes I look over these pages, and it really seems as though I'm the biggest egomaniac on earth. Well, I'm actually not; or at least no more than everyone is, but since I'm writing about my life and my thoughts, it seems like I am utterly self-centered.

I'm not, really.
Honestly.

Just wanted to clear this up.

What is it about the east side that makes everyone forget how to drive? Gridlock, honking, maniacs to the left of me, maniacs to the right of me; it takes five minutes to cross from one side of the street to the other, leaping from hood to hood.

Perhaps there are other pockets of drivers amnesia floating around Manhattan, but I know for certain that there is one at 57th and 3rd.

I was on hold the other day and the hold music was not only Lite Jazz, it was Lite Jazz on a badly tuned radio station that kept fading in and out.

I think I was calling the seventh circle of hell.

Y'know my definition of a good day is?
A day when I can throw out most of my mail.

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Thanks to Lucy Huntzinger for the logo.
Thanks to The Ultimate Halloween Page and Amber's Free Art
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This page was written by hand. My hand. Only pussies use HTML editors.
Last Updated Fri 21 August 23:26:09 1998