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Listening to: From the Choirgirl Hotel. Not for long, though... it's not really matching my mood quite like I was expecting it too.

Currently Reading: Just barely started Jonathan Lethem's Gun, With Occasional Music. Kind of saving it for the train, as well as a stack of others (both fiction and non). Also, I recently read Laurie Notaro's I Love Everybody (and Other Atrocious Lies): True Tales of a Loudmouth Girl (again) in like two days, and peed myself laughing. Highly recommended. I also devoured The Broke Diaries by Angela Nissel in, like, a mere few days. Laughed until I peed. Also highly recommended.

Wishing: income. Lots of it. Other than that, life's pretty good.

I couldn't be more The current mood of ronkc@diaryland.com at www.imood.com right now.

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Do you love me?

16 November 2001 | 11:15 PM

Lisa

Okay.

So you know how I have those flashes of insight right before I pass out? I don't really pass out, but I may as well... sometimes the insight is too much for me.

So, my friend Lisa is having a baby. I've decided that I'll be knitting the baby a blanket. So I ordered the yarn, and at this point I'm at the point where I'm rolling the yarn into a ball. So I'm rolling, rolling, rolling. I end up tangling the skein up into a big thing!!! So I'm trying really hard to unravel the tangles. I'm trying so diligently to disenfranchise the loops and slipknots from one another. I'm sitting there trying to figure the damn thing out, and I think, perhaps, rather than trying to find a strand and unravel from there, I should try to loosen each knot and loop so that I can get to the core of the tangle, where a much more challenging set of knots lies.

Then I start to think of how indicative this is of life, really. I get myself all tangled up, and then I'm trying to figure the damned thing out. I try this, I try that, and I just get ready to cut the damn thing into a million pieces and tie them all together. It will be mangled and bumpy, but at least it wouldn't be a tangle. I need to work on the tangles on the outside of my life so I can get to the tangles on the inside, but I haven't made it yet, and I wonder if I ever will without cutting the damn thing and starting over.

And the focus has suddenly shifted from an unborn baby, to my problems. Only I could do something as miraculous as that. Hm.

Anyway, this baby is going to be beautiful. I know this for absolute certainty.

Lisa is a beautiful Italian diva. She has these rich brown eyes, this saucy red hair, the full, beautiful lips, fashion sense that would wipe out an entire species of large land mammals, and a sense of humor that can bring me to tears at the drop of a hat.

Lisa's boyfriend, David, is either of Basque or Catilan descent, I can never remember. He has this deep, olive skin, eyes that could melt an ice sculpture, thick, dark hair, and guitar skills that puts audiences in absolute awe on a regular basis at Juice and Java and the Monterey Rock and Arts festival. I hear he has quite the endowment, to boot.

This baby can't go wrong.

One time, Lisa had to go to the bank. It was pouring down rain, and the only available parking spot on the planet was designated as a handicap spot. Lisa says, I'll park there, run in, use the ATM, run back. No biggie.

Upon return, there's a man in a van laying on his horn.

LISA: What?!
MAN: You're in a handicap spot.
LISA: Yeah. So?
MAN: Are you handicapped?
LISA: No. Are you?

The man opens his door to reveal that he has no legs.

MAN: Yes, actually, I am handicapped.
LISA: You won't be able to catch us, then, will you? RUN!!

I love Lisa. Hmm.

So I get a message on my answering machine tonight from my Grandmother. Apparently, she has purchased a cell phone. And does not know how to turn it off. Isn't that adorable?

So, I think that either tonight or tomorrow, I'm going to force myself to clean my room. It chides me that I have to force myself to do daily things like this. Oh, well.

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