wrote three hours ago, I know, but I'm feeling better and I wanted to post enough to say that I don't feel like committing hari-kari just yet (or harry carey, for that matter; it's hard to commit a dead guy). I AM looking forward to going home, though, and talking things out with mom.

I haven't been lying in the dark after all; rather, I've been reading mrs. dalloway. like so many people, seeing "the hours" inspired me. it's so damn good, but I bought it to read over the weekend and it looks like I'll finish it tonight.

note the myriad new links to other blogs on the left side of the page. bryan gave me corinne's and it cross referenced to a million people I hadn't heard from/seen in ages (sammy's an indie kid now?! what the fuck? there aren't allowed to be cute gay indie boys! it makes life too much worth living!); as before, anyone who doesn't want their name up in this piece drop me a line and tell me to take them the fuck off. no prob.

I've been swilling down syrupy port, and it's made my tummy ache. I'm gonna take a zantac and get back to virginia woolf. may the schwartz be with you.