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Dreamed I was in early 19th century London except that it didn't look like 19th century London or indeed, like any place I recognized. Extremely dark street filled with extremely ugly row houses. I was part of this huge family. We were preparing some sort of ceremonial meal; my job was to decant the posies and put them in small, ornamental vases up and down the table. Words like "kip" and "tosser" bandied about. Small shop attached to the house we lived in, which sold cigarettes.
Someone asked my father, "But how do you survive on what you make?"
"We make do, mate. We make do," he replied.
###
I don't understand what the Turkish riots are all about.
I really don't think it's in the best interests of the United States to support Syrian rebels allied with Al Qaeda, and I don't care how bad Assad is. It's a civil war, fuckheads. Stay out of it.
Max is running the SF Marathon today. I hope, I pray there are no incidents.
He and the Future Mother of My Unborn Grandchildren will be arriving at JFK at some unconscionably early time Wednesday morning. (Red eye.) I will greet them at the airport. As it turns out, they have arranged places to stay through the 27th when Liza is leaving. Max will be staying on with me for a few days after Liza goes back. Hoping to lure RTT down for a few days, but RTT will do what RTT will do. Hoping to see Max and Liza a few times while both are here. I need to get to know Liza.
Package in the mail yesterday – a little Netbook from Ben! "You need a backup," he said gruffly when I tried to thank him over the phone, and hung up the phone quickly. I do need a backup, as a matter of fact, since the machine I'm typing this on has Major Health Issues and the spiffy iMac BB loaned me will have to go back to Greenpoint in a couple of months and anyway, is relegated to videogames. Timing is the way the Universe lets us know that magic still exists – and the timing on this was… interesting. I suppose this means that B and I are still connected in some profound psychic way. I certainly hadn't told him about the computer issues.
Second interview with the Habitat For Humanity people went well, I thought. But what do I know?
Someone asked my father, "But how do you survive on what you make?"
"We make do, mate. We make do," he replied.
I don't understand what the Turkish riots are all about.
I really don't think it's in the best interests of the United States to support Syrian rebels allied with Al Qaeda, and I don't care how bad Assad is. It's a civil war, fuckheads. Stay out of it.
Max is running the SF Marathon today. I hope, I pray there are no incidents.
He and the Future Mother of My Unborn Grandchildren will be arriving at JFK at some unconscionably early time Wednesday morning. (Red eye.) I will greet them at the airport. As it turns out, they have arranged places to stay through the 27th when Liza is leaving. Max will be staying on with me for a few days after Liza goes back. Hoping to lure RTT down for a few days, but RTT will do what RTT will do. Hoping to see Max and Liza a few times while both are here. I need to get to know Liza.
Package in the mail yesterday – a little Netbook from Ben! "You need a backup," he said gruffly when I tried to thank him over the phone, and hung up the phone quickly. I do need a backup, as a matter of fact, since the machine I'm typing this on has Major Health Issues and the spiffy iMac BB loaned me will have to go back to Greenpoint in a couple of months and anyway, is relegated to videogames. Timing is the way the Universe lets us know that magic still exists – and the timing on this was… interesting. I suppose this means that B and I are still connected in some profound psychic way. I certainly hadn't told him about the computer issues.
Second interview with the Habitat For Humanity people went well, I thought. But what do I know?
