Sorry this is so late, I got up hideously late this morning, and had to rush out. It was all Lindsay Smith's fault, too. I don't know why, but I was dreaming of her and she kept telling me to hit snooze. Until I got up at 9.40 or whatever, and had to take a shower, because I was encrusted with filth.

Bad Lindsay! Shame on you!

I get a horoscope emailed to me daily that seems to have little to do with reality, but I read it every day anyway. They include your name in it, so that it sounds real personal, even as nothing said ever has anything to do with anything in my reality.

Today's was the best by far, though:

So, yesterday I was all sad and stuff about not being able to go to the goddamn O Brother Where Art Thou concert at Carnegie Hall (and yes, I have called four times since for returns, I'm not giving up), when I got an email from Shae saying that Dan Tyminski (aka the voice of Clooney, the man of constant sorrow) was playing by her this weekend, and did I want to go?

Well, hell yeah! I was all, "How much are tickets," like a moron, because no matter what, it'll still cost me as much to go roundtrip to Boston as it will to go to Cameron's wedding in Toronto, but I'm all about hemorrhaging money, baby, especially for Dan Tyminski.

So, I'll be off staying with Shae and Rog, whom I without question, know the least of anyone that I have ever stayed with. I have met many people without knowing them that well, just having an idea that we might like each other, and usually being right, but I have only stayed over with people that I know quite well.

They have assured me that they are not serial killers. I have made them no such assurance myself, though the fact that I have met something over 100 journallers should pretty much put me in the clear. Unless I have killed them all and am keeping up their journals so that nobody knows they are gone. Which explains the late update! And I'm really sorry that " Dawn" and " Colleen" haven't updated in so long, but My God, I am not a machine!

Anyway, they were all like, "Here's what we look like so that you can find us at the station, and I replied, "I'm not going to look for you, I'll just be standing around with my pink hair and wait to be found. Hopefully, another short woman and tall man aren't trolling around the station, picking up people to sell into white slavery, 'cause I'll just wander off happily with them."

I mean honestly, this is why I have pink hair! So that if I'm standing in the train station in Boston, that I don't have to expend an atom of energy, that everyone necessary will come to me. Unless Jessie happens to be in the station, to which I can only add, I'm the tall one with the pink hair.

Then Shae wrote me that Rog wasn't really so tall, that it was just a comparison thing, as she was just a little tiny grub of a woman, to which I answered, "I'll scour the ground then. I'll bring my magnifying glass. Will you be able to see my pink hair so high up in the sky? I'll wear pink socks or something, closer to your eyelevel."

So this weekend should be swell, if they don't smother me in my bed for being so sarcastic and eat my kidneys for breakfast.

Don't forget, if you want to trade mix tapes with me, the info is here, the tapes are great, and I swear I'm not flaking this year, so write me!

Lenten entries missed:

Judith's dog got very sick, remembered her grandmother, told some more carny stories (I love them carny stories!), and had some trouble with her son.

Today's horoscope:
Please yourself financially. Indulge a bit. You can energetically pursue funds today as well as spend them.

One year ago today:
And half of my readers are clearly nutballs, because do you know how many peoplewrote me telling me to rub it with a gold ring?

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Last Updated Fri 1 June 01:36:09 2001