Silly announcement of the day:

If you press snap dragons from the sides of the flower, you can have a floral puppet show. Perfect for those moments when you want to have a psychotheraputic encounter with a loved one, yet cannot find your individual puppets at the moment.

October 19, 1998.

Today I fell asleep in the Ferg common room. I don't even live there anymore, for pete's. Not my proudest moment.

I cannot believe how tired I am. And I cannot believe how little work I've gotten done in the weekend just passed. I really need to crack the whip on myself...I do have a whip, you know...but it works better as a disciplinary tool when someone else is cracking it...

Better not go there.

Goshia has secured a tentative interview with Spider Robinson, not only one of my favourite authors, but an all-around nice guy to boot. I have no idea what I'm going to talk about; there's no new book, and I can hardly fill the time with, "that thing you did was so cool..." Nevertheless, the promise of an interview has made me with that I wasn't dog-tired, and could show Goshia a proper amount of enthusiasm.

And there was much rejoicing. Yay.

The last dream I had before waking went as follows:

A girl I used to know contacted me to buy groceries on her behalf. Although I tried to write down her list, the words kept slipping away, frustrating me to no end...because I knew that if I didn't make a list, I'd forget things. This girl used to date Mr. Blonde, and whenever I had occasion to think of her in the past, it was always with that caveat. "She is my boyfriend's ex-girlfriend." I woke up before I got to the store.

At this point, I opened my mouth to tell Trevor that I had dreamt of his ex-girlfriend. Get it? I'd always thought of her as my boyfriend's ex-girlfriend...and she still existed like that in my mind. Thank God I caught myself before I could open my mouth...what an idiot thing to say.

one year ago today: "such a dirty mind..."