Crimanently, here it is 9.40a and I'm only just starting! Expect a short entry today. However, I showered last night, so fear not me going out all stinky!

Okay, we're doing a cheating "I have no time to do a real entry" entry. Here's some recent listmail I sent:

(responding to: 'I remember Becky's Indian Names very well. I was "She who has roses in January." ')

What a lovely name! I was trying to think what my Indian name would be, and I really think that the most fitting one would be "She Who Has Cat Poop on Her Floor". Somewhat less mellifluous!

(to my high school alumni mailing list)

Does dwelling on high school days mean that I'm entering my second childhood?

Last September my freshman year boyfriend, Aaron Sanborn, emailed me and said "Guess what? We met twenty years ago this month!" And that sure makes one feel younger than springtime. Well, a couple of weeks ago I was in the post office here in New York and I was accosted by a strange man who turned out to be my best friend from sophomore year, Brad DePlanche. I told him the Aaron story, then realized that if that was last September, then that very moment (more or less) was the twentieth anniversary of my meeting Brad. Oy!

Is this going to happen every year?

(in response to a mention of Kevin Cole, a pianist at my high school who would come back after he graduated and help with our Broadway Night concerts)

Me too! I had the biggest crush on him. He's still my favourite accompanist that I've ever sang with, but for the time that my duet partner and I shanghaied Byron into playing for us. We had not the slightest idea who he was, being Drama majors, I was so embarrassed when I realized that the man that we had grabbed, asking "Can you transpose by sight?" was the conductor of the orchestra! I guess that explains that transposing thing, huh?

(in response to a discussion of bad movies that mentioned "Orgy of the Dead," 'which was actually about these women condemned to dance for eternity in punishment for their sins.')

Great heavens, I've seen that! I used to go to a bar in the 80s that showed cult films projected onto the wall, and we were so excited 'cause we thought it was cheesy sixties porn, which it of course is, but it's BORING cheesy sixties porn. My boyfriend at the time and I picked up the catch phrase "More gold! MORE gold!!" from that film, but not much else.

(in response to a discussion of complicated homemade Xmas card extravaganzas)

Our family Xmas card is very trad, we send out hundreds and hundreds, and everyone,including my friends, complains if they don't happen to get one. Once you get on the Zuckert family Xmas card list, despair of ever getting off!

Like I said, it's Xeroxed on a coloured piece of paper and folded into quarters, and sealed with 1/4 of a Xmas seal, so you don't need envelopes. I always drew the cover,which was all cute and stuff until I grew too old for bad drawing to be cute anymore, and that was when I started making collages. Far preferable and cooler. Inside on one side was a picture of the three of us, or a collage of pictures if we didn't get together during the year to shoot it, and on the left hand side was the poem.

My father always wrote a comic poem about our doings during the year rather than a newsletter, and the poem is why everyone loves our card. First of all, he was really great at it,that was his writing niche--comic poems about actual events, like a balladeer. Secondly, it was a way of condensing the year so that it wasn't a three page letter in very small type.

So I did the cover, Da did the poem, and Mom produced and directed the whole thing.

Christmas 1996 my father was in the hospital, so the cards were made, but they weren't sent out. In January in 1997 he died, so Christmas 1997 we sent out the previous year's card so that everyone would have his last Xmas poem, also with the programme from his memorial service, which included another one of his poems.

This means that last Xmas was that first time that I had to write the poem, which we still call "the poem" even though it's no longer in a poetry style. My personal writing niche is personal narrative, which works as well. I'm certain that people miss the poem, but that was his thing and he was so great at it, I can only succeed him, never replace him.

Holy cats, I just checked my year ago link, and that was a recycled entry, too! I really am reliving the same year all over again!

Today's horoscope:
Sharp words slip out easily, yet compassion is highlighted as well. Steer clear of people who irritate you and all will be well.

One year ago today:
I'm riding that ragged edge of disaster, baby...

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Autumn Red by:
Beth!

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Last Updated Tues 12 October 10:27:09 1999