So yesterday, Tracing and I went over to Sara Astruc's. We planned this last week, and I said, "I'm very depressed and unhappy right now, so we're going to have to spend a lot of time on me," so we sat on the roof and ate Chinese food and talked about me me me for hours and hours on end, world without measure. And I smoked about ten cigarettes because Sara is a Very Bad Influence.

The story of last week, that I have neither shared with you here nor with my notify list, but that I am clearly going to have to write out fully and publish as a booklet, because I am starting to bore myself with it all, and also because it's about an hour-long story at this point, and there is nothing that can be left out of it. There is no high points version. It's all high points. Or low points.

It's good now, though. We're gently talking to each other, although not about anything too close, nothing that will flick on the raw. Fortunately, since we are doing A Doll's House, that gives us something to discuss enthusiastically, without going into any danger zones.

And we are still going to Lancaster, but only for three days rather than eight, since he is working now like a normal person rather than being a gentleman of leisure. Why this leisure couldn't have lasted two damn weeks longer, I don't know. I've told him that he owes me a goddamn week in the future, and I intend to collect it.

Today's horoscope:
Revenge makes bigger ripples, but justice calms everyone down. If your target is still worth hitting, be sure that your hit is clean. The last thing you want to do is complicate this issue.

One year ago today:
And I'm still glad that I was there, that I had the opportunity to see the greatest duo in the history of music perform together.

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Last Updated Wed 13 August 00:02:09 2003