6 March

I have battled my way back to health (gasp gasp gasp) but only after proving myself to all and sundry that I am the biggest whiner over a little cold that anyone knows!

Proud of it, too!

I was the backup receptionist yesterday, for when Marcia had break and lunch and things, which meant that after I was done coughing all over her phone, she would Lysol everything I had touched thoroughly. I felt like I had fleas or something. If not the Black Plague.

And, of course, when I had to be there for the whole lunch hour was when my nose stuffed up completely and I could only talk as if I were auditioning for an Afrin commercial:

"Good avderdood, Gumpady That Bust Dot Be Dabed, gan I heb you?"

Lots of interest in my mix tapes yesterday, but I'm sure there are more of you out there! I spent all yesterday evening fetishistically making little labels with cool fonts that match the themes and gluing them carefully onto the insert cards!

And if that doesn't get more people wanting to trade with me, I don't know what will! Let me know!

The following is an e-mail I got yesterday from Amy Lester who clearly updates so damn infrequently because she's sending giant e-mails like this all over the multi-verse, but even though I usually find other people's dreams as dull as dry toast, this made me laugh so hard that it is reprinted here, with permission:

I know, not a very enticing opening, but...what can you do?

Andy and I were traveling about, and I realized we were in New Jersey, near your house. I told him, we HAVE to go say hi to the Mighty Kymm! He was reluctant, but once we got inside your house, he immediately fell in love with you. (I'm not sure, but I think this could have something to do with the fact that five minutes into the Moncia Lewinsky interview, we both fell in love with Monica.) It turned out that you lived with some other women, one of whom was Beth (from DJR and stuff).

You and your womyn friends entertained Andy and I, then offered to take us to (we were magically on a college campus) the student union. When we had all obtained some coffee, we headed back for your place, but you said to us, "You go ahead back. I need to stay here and write for a few hours." I thought, oh my God! She's going to write about me! And about how Andy and I surprised her with our visit! I'M GOING TO BE IN KYMM'S JOURNAL!!! And I was all happy and stuff. But then I realized that you were ditching us--your guests--for two hours and I was pissed at you.

The women and Andy and I spent the evening playing with your cats (you had about five thousand cats, and they all had these really long, bendy legs) and when you came home, you showed us your bedroom. Outside your window you had a pool shaped like a penis. It was dirty.

Then I kept saying things to crack you up. Every time you laughed, I thought, "OH MY GOD! Kymm is going to write about me in her journal!" Then I'd repeat what I had said so you could write it down later. Once you were laughing so hard at me that you put your head down on your desk, and I thought, man! I am SO going to be the star of her journal entry today!

Then my alarm woke me up, and I ran--half-asleep--to check your journal, but you hadn't written about me.

Is this normal, do you think?"