By no means will we have one of these internet jukeboxes. We hear what we want to, not what some jackass off the street wants to play.

ION, I JUST got an RSVP for a luncheon that is TOMORROW. RSVP date was Monday, and this chick just got around to it. ARGH.

Actually, The Vine has an internet jukebox, and you can get alot of music you might not normally get to hear. That being said, I prefer the old kind.

It's okay. In my head, you're twenty-five and wise beyond your years.

Bless you. I think I was smarter and more mature at 25. Of course I wasn't online, then.

Bless you. I think I was smarter and more mature at 25. Of course I wasn't online, then.

So you didn't exist. Hm.

FWIW, I didn't publish my first book until mere weeks before I turned 40.

I turn 40 in ten weeks. Crap.

Self-publishing, yo. You can call it All I Did Was Flash My Smile at These Strangers From the Internet, and They Did My Every Bidding.

Alternatively, you could just call it Scola!, which I feel is very catchy and much easier to market than the first title, which in retrospect is a lame title but I'm going to leave it there anyway since I fear no mocking.

t secretly fears the mocking

t but not the reaper

Come on Teppy (don't fear the mocker)

secretly fears the mocking

"Are you mods or rockers?"
"We're mockers."

Sidenote on the job interview yesterday: My interviewer, Pat (a woman) had a big, expensively framed photo of the Rolling Stones in her office. I noted this approvingly toward the end of the interview, and she talked of her Stones love.

Except the reason she loved the Stones was because "they just make me smile" and "when you go to their concerts there are kids and grandparents and its just great to see people of many generations coming together to have a good time."

And I thought, "Is she talking about the Stones or the Beach Boys?"

And I thought but didn't say, "So you're a big fan of 'Cocksucker Blues', eh? I love that part when Mick sings, 'When will I get my cock sucked / when will I get my ass fucked'. The kids love that part."

I'm scrolling through the Buffista Attic. It's fun! Sometimes it's like reading somebody else's journal. Except it's public. But you do get that thing where you see where they were and where they are. For example...

***************

Erin Griggs - Apr 8, 2002 6:04 am (#90 of 2990)
Hello, ladies and gents. How are you? Fun weekends all around? Mine was. Even with the DST and the rainy Monday here and all.

I got my hair cut. Major trauma but I do like it. It's like a choppy bob that hits at my collarbone. I chopped 5 inches off. I'm going to try to get the digital camera out and send off some pix today. I shook like a leaf while the stylist was chopping, but it looks better than the length my hair was at. And it's so healthy and shiny and red.

So that's one thing. I also decided that I'm moving back from Lawrence to Kansas City. I miss my friends -- I miss their immediacy. I like college towns and always will, and I really like my job here, but -- KU doesn't pay me as much as comparable area colleges would. I should be making about $5000 more a year at least. And college towns are a lot more fun when you are IN college as opposed to being an administrator.

So I'm scouting out jobs, revving up my resume and hoping to be out of here in August. My lease is up at the end of July.

I'm excited. I really think that a lot of my depression will be alleviated by (1) having a goal and (2) moving back.

So. Yeah. Life Serial.

Does anybody remember what Jessica's favorite love poem is?

The Attic knows...

************

-Jessica- - Apr 7, 2002 7:07 pm (#71 of 2990)
My favorite love poem:

A VALEDICTION FORBIDDING MOURNING
by John Donne

As virtuous men passe mildly away,
And whisper to their soules, to goe,
Whilst some of their sad friends doe say,
The breath goes now, and some say, no:

So let us melt, and make no noise,
No teare-floods, nor sigh-tempests move,
T'were prophanation of our joyes
To tell the layetie our love.

Moving of th'earth brings harmes and feares,
Men reckon what it did and meant,
But trepidation of the spheares,
Though greater farre, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers love
(Whose soule is sense) cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
Those things which elemented it.

But we by a love, so much refin'd.
That our selves know not what it is,
Inter-assured of the mind,
Care lesse, eyes, lips, and hands to misse.

Our two soules therefore, which are one,
Though I must goe, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to ayery thinnesse beate.

If they be two, they are two so
As stiffe twin compasses are two,
Thy soule the fixt foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if the'other doe.

And though it in the center sit,
Yet when the other far doth rome,
It leanes, and hearkens after it,
And growes erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to mee, who must
Like th'other foot, obliquely runne;
Thy firmnes drawes my circle just,
And makes me end, where I begunne.

I'd like to say homemade Chex mix, but who's gonna have time for that?

I would TOTALLY make this for you. I love making homemade Chex mix. LOVE it. As a matter of fact, now I'm gonna have to make some soon. It doesn't really go with Fajitas and Margaritas, though, does it? (That's tomorrow night's dinner party theme, for which I was just a total dork and bought 12 margarita glasses at Crate and Barrel. They'll probably get used once or twice a year, but boy are they fun!)