11.06.03-7:55 a.m.
Good morning, me!

I'm trying out www.typepad.com for a bit, to see how that goes. It makes me feel a little disloyal, but I like the design features.

Oh, and, yawn.

11.04.03-5:35 p.m.
In glancing back over what I wrote a few days ago, gloating about my view into the offices across the street, I realized what I should have realized a week ago. I should go put some clothes on.

11.04.03-5:28 p.m.
Look at my pompous ass. "Non-Humorous Disclaimer" indeed. See how I assume my own hilarity?

11.03.03-5:43 p.m.
"Hello, Quagmire? I'd like to make a reservation. Yes, that's States, first name 'United'."

Honestly.

***Non-Humorous Disclaimer***

I am an American. And I firmly believe in the democratic system and the principles of freedom upon which this country is founded. I love my country. I do. I just don't think we know what we're doing any more, if we ever did to begin with. I pray to God that we do, and that whatever it is, we get it done, and that we get it done without any more death or heartache -- for ANYONE involved (which would be all of us, as well as all of them). I know that's wishful thinking, but, well, I'm thinking wishfully.

10.28.03-11:35 a.m.
I felt compelled to say a few brief words about the "RMAs" last night. As if that tepid dreck is deserving of the use of a tweetsie anagram. Let's see... how to describe the festivities in two words or less?

Phoned In?

ClearChannel Wankfest?

Stupid Uninspired Waste Of My Time?

Sorry, I got carried away there.

Seriously, though, the performances were glum; the presenters were idiots, spaced out, or both; and the "hosts" -- ah, well, enough said. (Except to say, WHAT was that THING on Brooke Burns' head? Are we doing "retro Eighties" now? And if so, WHYEEEEEEE?????)

The lipsynging was unrehearsed, the non-lipsynched singing caused my eardrums to burst, and the lame "jokes" and "banter" were so terribly, terribly obviously scripted, evidently by a committee of ninety-year old monkeys with brain damage and dependency issues.

Filler. Several hours of filler and "awards."

I can't believe NBC hyped this for so long.

2003-10-27-6:05 p.m.
Okay, I've tried to change this to a "weblog."

I believe I've done it right, but I'm not entirely sure. Anyway, it just seemed that the shorter, more infrequent updates that make up my "diary" were more suited to the style of a weblog. Blog. Whatever. I may be breaking some sort of sacred moral code here, but since I wasn't writing actual coherent essays with a discernible structure, this might be better. And, I'm explaining this like I have an actual audience other than myself. Hi!

2003-10-27-5:46 p.m.
Right, so this time change thing? I never can get used to it. I know, I know, "you get to sleep another hour!" but HELL: this just means that it gets dark at 5:30 now. Which means that it actually gets dark as I sit here at my desk. Which, although this happens every year, I still find strange.

However! It also means that I can see straight into the offices in the buildings across from me. This is terrific.

For instance, theres a guy standing up and doing some silly little stretch kind of thing and well, now he's wandering over to his window, so I guess I should stop staring. But I forever cherish the hope of seeing something salacious -- not necessarily to see that in itself; more because then I can say "You guys, you will not BELIEVE what I saw from my window at work today."

No, I don't sit here all stalkery and stare for hours on end across the street. I just want to happen to look up one day and, oops! Look at what they're doing!!

Come on! It would be funny!

But anyway, back to the original topic of conversation: Are there really that many farmers out harvesting the crops by hand any more or whyever it was we started doing this? Or is this the "real" time? I never can remember. But now I get up in the dark and go home in the dark.

The dark, she is early.

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