Thank you, Jessamyn!

Jessamyn is just the greatest journaller on earth! And why? Why is Jessamyn the greatest journaller on earth? Because for two entries in a row, two entries, she linked wonderful sites that I never would have found without her.

In this entry she linked this site, the site of The Rabbit With Things On His Head, which I was looking at at work and just howling at, calling everyone over that walked by, saying, "Look! Look! He has a croissant on his head! Wait, here he's wearing sort of a little sombrero! Bwahahahaha!!!!"

This site is the perfect site for those who need a good laugh, it's like after my father died and the first movie I saw was Beavis and Butthead Do America--it's nothing but silly fun. And a very cute bunny. With things on his head. HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

And in the second entry she linked this great journal, Lemon Rind, that just made me jump up and down with glee.

Boy, do I love finding a new journal that just makes me want to race through the entries as fast as I can and then complain that there aren't any more. There's something about her that reminds me of Jessie, not that she writes entries about getting up in the morning, putting up 75 gallons of jelly, biking 100 miles with 57 pounds of groceries balanced on her head, building a third floor onto the house in the late afternoon, and then putting the Magna Carta into haiku form after dinner, but more because of the way she talks about her husband and the way she nicknames her friends.

My favourite is her friend Clafouti, because that's a restaurant in Los Angeles that my mother likes and whenever I see it in an entry I always hear my mother's lilting Belgian accent.

Last night I got home from work after rehearsal (2a, tell me I'm not a loon) and there was just the hugest fly in my apartment!

It was about as long as my thumb, or at least from the knuckle to the end of my nail and it was sitting on a plate chowing down on a cake crumb. It was big enough that you could see it stuffing the cake into it's mouth with both little black hands, fly cheeks bulging, giving me a nasty look out of its faceted eye.

I decided that I really didn't want to live with a fly the length of my eyeball, unlike the other flies asleep on my ceiling all little and cute and sweet and adorable. You know, by comparison. So I got out the Evil Killing Spray of Death and tiptoed over to the cake plate and spritzed.

And the fly flew off! Like a motherfucker that fly flew off!! He just started flying around the apartment and buzzing my head, making me shriek and hide in the bathroom. I now know that if I came home at 2a and found a serial killer in my apartment ready to carve me up like a Christmas goose, I can't expect any help from the folks upstairs, because I was screaming like a woman (well, I would, wouldn't I?) and not a startled footstep did I hear.

I felt a bit silly, natch, but it really was a very scary fly! It buzzed loud enough to hear out on the boulevard (shriek shriek shriek!) that was worse than any bumblebee. Flies that you can measure by inches aren't flies are they, they're bloody pterodactyls and should die a little faster.

It stopped eventually. And I, traumatized, went to bed, shuddering.

Today's horoscope:
Communication with family members flows more easily today, with acceptance on both sides. Shared feelings lead to more closeness.

One year ago today:
"Christ, I still have to dig those graves and make the headstones! Will this toil and strife never end?"

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Last Updated Mon 24 September 01:51:09 2001