If I am still thinking about waitresses by March or so, I'm going to have to be put down...

And I'm starting to develop fixations on waitresses who look like ex-girlfriends again, which bears an uncanny resemblance to the winter of 2003.

Thinking about waitresses at all is a sure sign that I need a long vacation somewhere.

I'm not really like this. It is my environment that has made me what I am today.

I have a jittery feeling about this 2004 business, but I am easily spooked.

However, 2003 is still driving carbombs into the headquarters of the new administration.

Looks great, when do we leave?

I've always envied the enthusiasm and the pomp which ensues for Tolkein Geeks, Star Wars kids, video game enthusiats, pirate fetishists or other groups of fanboys (and girls) are afforded when the latest filmic version of their obsession hits the big screen. One would think that my hour has finally arrived with the announcement of Troy: The Movie, were it not for the fact that I'm certain that it is going to be an execrable piece of garbage.

Strangely enough, I don't seem to mind being back at work.

You'd think if I was architecture I'd be making alot more money...


You are Architecture.
You are the most functional art form and rarely do
anything without some practical purpose.
Although you are capable of easilly outstaging
the other arts, you usually prefer to go
unnoticed.


What form of art are you?
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Langpo Porno Spam

I got a porno spam from the following address:

From: "Shintoisms K. Goalkeeper" (crashcar@nctta.org)

Bearing the Subject Heading:

Subject: defilingly epithetically

The text of the message itself was more or less disappointing, however. Especially since I don't think the 19 year old girls were *really* waiting for my, well, you know...

No New Year's Day is complete without a Tu Fu ripoff:

New Year's Day, 2004

Wake to the new year alone, all
my old lovers in others' arms, as is
their nature, go to the mirror
& find more silver hairs, my stomach
always sour from wine & all those
doctors' useless pills. The infant
year, the new sun Phoebus Apollo thrusts
his bright lance thru the plum
of my heart, Apollo Lykeios who spit
in Cassandra's mouth to give her visions
is ridden by her own weeping ghost thru
my dreams, her barren womb
beside my thighs, giving birth to dire prophecies,
my priestess who shrieks in Apollo's temple:
these years pull us closer & closer together.

Watching the old year pass with friends & the children
of friends. Michael's Lucy draws bright
cats with rows & rows of wicked claws
& huge green eyes. I want her life to be
better than mine. I grow drunker & then
at last sleep, the voices of friends still
sorrounding me like a shimmering cloud.
This year my books my own young will go
into the world, I will give them shivs
& subway maps, tell them that someone
loves them.

Well, here we are in the other side of 2004. I am very glad that 2003 is behind us. I hope not to have another year like that one for some time to come. Not that the year was entirely bad, but it's highs and lows were precipitous and uneven. Hopefully 2004 will offer some shade of predicability and stability.

Currently I am most decidedly not in New York. Given that I feel like, well, how one would expect someone the morning after drinking on the hour, every hour, for ten hours or so, I don't imagine I am going to make it to New York, either. A fantastic, even if child-filled, party at James and Amanda's in which it seemed that every available surface was occupied by something delicious to eat.

Definitely an improvement over past New Years which were spent breaking up with people in public places. Perhaps not having done so will bode better this year relationship-wise. There is certainly nowhere to go but up in that department.