Exxxxcellent, connie.

Remington? Royal? Olivetti?

Smith Corona.

Dani: !@!Y@!

You live in Winnipeg?! How could you be so close without me knowing, without me taking you out to lunch?

(whoop reading Deb's post caused me to write Deb vs Dani.. too excited to locate a Winnipeg-ista!)

Brynn, you should totally take Dani out to lunch. Her small son, IIRC, has a charming way of skewing Nirvana lyrics...

Cereal: Not part of the challenge, but we just had a discussion in my seminar class about antiquarianism/antiquaries* and it prompted me to write a parodic poem (something that, since I took my editing job hasn't happened for me...). Anyway, there was an anecdote in a reading about some antiquaries who showed up at the house of a Scotsman or as they referred to him "the one who wears the plaid!", and were flabbergasted to find that he had books! Our prof responded with, "Well, yes the English felt that the Scots were savages in their own backyard " which lead me to write, the following:

My Backyard Savage


by Captain Andy Q. Aryan Esq.

so quaint
in his plaid
Hark!
Yon books?
must be
wordless
catalogues of
ripped tartans
Oh!
pressed.
Shelved.

Possibly only funny/resonant if you've studied 18th Century English Society...

• English 18th Century aristocratic society who preserved relics and and/or also went around knocking on the doors of commoners and documenting their customs/folksongs etc in scholarly catalogues, basically treating them as if they were aliens in their own country due to their class/locale.

Passage of time drabble: 100 words

It is Saturday, November 27, 2004. Yesterday it was Friday, the 8th, October. August was eaten by September. It was 1994 last week.

If I drew a self-portrait, I would be ten years younger. I don't see the wrinkles around my eyes or the mouth when I look in a mirror. I still think I'm too young to be a teacher; I still wonder if I'll get carded every time I go out.

I imagine I will write a book and be a prodigy, the cover of Time: Promising new author! Prolific beyond her years!

I am always late.

Shit, Kristin. You made me mist up.

This is a hard topic. So damned wistful, if you're over about 18.

Thanks Deb. I needed to hear that. I've been having serious identity issues lately about myself and about my writing in particular. Totally unlike me.

Am I too young to be having a midlife crisis? Could it be the whole turning thirty thing?

Kristin, the mid to late twenties are the second of the Big Three crises: it's one reason why teenagers have such a high suicide rate, but the last I looked, late twenties wasn't that far behind. I actually was fine in my late twenties, but I wasn't typical of the syndrome; I'd packed so much into the first quarter century that, experientially, I might as well have been fifty by then.

So frustrated...wrote a lot this whole week, but it's like I can picture what I want to say and I'm not saying it yet. Damn it.