Ah hell. Here we go. I feel another spate of posts coming on. If I were a person of more seemly, more thoughtful impulses, I might just save up my spurts of post desire and piece them all together at the end of the day. It�d save us all a rather lot of trouble, I�m sure. I get annoyed thinking about my messy entries. I just wrote to Bathsheba about how particularly annoyed I am with that last one. Because already I�ve changed my mind. Right now I�m bored and restless and want some action. 30 minutes ago I was the queen of contentment. Blah, blah blah, blah blah. Those blahs have a specific rhythm to them. I�m saying it in my head right now.

I�ve been listening to mixed tapes and CDs made by Frances and Bathsheba. I don�t know the names of the songs on Frances�s tapes, except when I do, but there are now so many songs that I can�t believe I ever lived without and most of them I don�t know the names of. I need Frances to drive around with me for about 9 hours and write down all the names. I mean, she did write them all out when she gave me the tapes, but I am such a scatterbrain that I lost all of those slips of paper. Frances, you should just tattoo me with the names of every musician I must know.

Last night I listened to Prince singing �Starfish & Coffee� over and over again (thanks to Bathsheba). I did not go to Mark Eitzel. Reasons: ennui, inertia, defeatism, heat, chattiness, poverty. I tried to mow the damned lawn, but I think, instead, I broke the lawn mower. This little difficulty is currently being shelved under problems I plan to ignore for the time being. That shelf is getting full.