Tu 3-4 (actually We 3-5)
It's after midnight. I had some french roast this evening. I did some fifteen mintues and typed some e-mail. Tomorrow to Torrance. Tomorrow night, Largo. The blinds are horribly dusty. How do you clean them? I'll ask GIP. Maybe I'll go to Molly Malone's after class before Largo.
I was talking a little fiction and story and film with Sharon Powers, the teacher next door at Pio Pico. She's working on a thesis feature for UCLA film school. Sven, the one-eyed, one-handed, limp-legged, half-wit is coming down from Fresno, Hanford, actually. The Thing is suggesting a trip to Rosarito. We'll see. What else? I read most of the New York Times today. Crossword, too. Read Neruda poems, "Leviathan" and "Las Aves Maltratadas", both about man's violent nature.
What else? There's so much and so little. I ought to just keep going so I can finish and relax in dreamland for a few hours. Last night I dreamt of skydiving in South Africa with my father. There was a moment of panic when the chute wouldn't open, but I did just glide down. I'm a little hungry. I ate a plate of leftover lasagna and rolls and a cafeteria "BBQ" pork sandwich. Tomorrow, I'll call Mariachi, Ford, and the Pepper. Before class. I'll be a wreck Thursday in Hacienda Heights if I'm not careful. Last night's Neruda poem was about the prow of a ship washed up on the beach, like a mermaid. I didn't get to read any Bible Sunday because I was still suffering from shock and stupor. I must resist lunch tomorrow. I wrote the check for $200 for the CTCU Visa. It's under 3 G's. It will take at least six months to pay it off if I don't incur any more debt.
My eyes, er, my vision rather is blurry. Tomorrow will be a long day. What else? I e-mailed Boddington. It's one thirty. I have to get up in less than five hours. There's still some paper unread alonside the bed.
My thumb is sore. Coffee burning holes in my stomach lining. E-mailed Gibson and Castle. Funny joke from Jon about Samurai slicing flies.
It's after midnight. I had some french roast this evening. I did some fifteen mintues and typed some e-mail. Tomorrow to Torrance. Tomorrow night, Largo. The blinds are horribly dusty. How do you clean them? I'll ask GIP. Maybe I'll go to Molly Malone's after class before Largo.
I was talking a little fiction and story and film with Sharon Powers, the teacher next door at Pio Pico. She's working on a thesis feature for UCLA film school. Sven, the one-eyed, one-handed, limp-legged, half-wit is coming down from Fresno, Hanford, actually. The Thing is suggesting a trip to Rosarito. We'll see. What else? I read most of the New York Times today. Crossword, too. Read Neruda poems, "Leviathan" and "Las Aves Maltratadas", both about man's violent nature.
What else? There's so much and so little. I ought to just keep going so I can finish and relax in dreamland for a few hours. Last night I dreamt of skydiving in South Africa with my father. There was a moment of panic when the chute wouldn't open, but I did just glide down. I'm a little hungry. I ate a plate of leftover lasagna and rolls and a cafeteria "BBQ" pork sandwich. Tomorrow, I'll call Mariachi, Ford, and the Pepper. Before class. I'll be a wreck Thursday in Hacienda Heights if I'm not careful. Last night's Neruda poem was about the prow of a ship washed up on the beach, like a mermaid. I didn't get to read any Bible Sunday because I was still suffering from shock and stupor. I must resist lunch tomorrow. I wrote the check for $200 for the CTCU Visa. It's under 3 G's. It will take at least six months to pay it off if I don't incur any more debt.
My eyes, er, my vision rather is blurry. Tomorrow will be a long day. What else? I e-mailed Boddington. It's one thirty. I have to get up in less than five hours. There's still some paper unread alonside the bed.
My thumb is sore. Coffee burning holes in my stomach lining. E-mailed Gibson and Castle. Funny joke from Jon about Samurai slicing flies.
posted by johnz at 8:35 PM
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