Yikes! Cafe Fiat!

Café Fiat is closing, at least temporarily! This puts the entire writing group at loose ends. We'll probably go back to one of the previous after-hours hangout spots, but ... yikes! This does not bode well for my writing group leadership stuff, because ...

... it's just a bad omen, that's what. It closes, in fact, on the first day of easalle's classes.

It's evidently a potentially temporary closing until new leadership can be tracked down, and there's a lot of potential new leadership, but...

... this is not something I like the sound of.

Just like the good old days

Good ol' Fuzzy is still legendary. I've both missed him and not missed him. His life is very exciting, mostly because things keep happening, he keeps doing things... His social interactions with other human beings is the stuff of cinema, the stuff of tabloids. I'm not sure whether I should poke the guy with a stick or not. We still managed to be close, and from all appearances, we'll be close again just through snapping back into habit. He's moved, and living in the same state as his ex and his daughter now. She's a smart little thing. The photo he shared with me of her actually reminds me of myself at the same age, much as I can see myself in the Little Fayoumis, only different. I've only seen her the once. And but for some timing, I could have borne her. It's a sobering thing to think about.

Fuzzy poked a little close to the issue that sets my brain on fire (sorry about snapping at you, raranax -- same deal, I'm just very extraordinarily touchy on the subject) and I came yea close to telling him, except since Fuzzy lives in the same town as the guy, and even lives within reasonable walk-over-and-deck-the-guy distance ... not going there. Not right now. But even talking around the thing so briefly leaves me nervous and shocky. My arms are warm, but my fingers are like ice. Toes too. And I was curled up in bed talking, with the a/c turned off.

And I won't get a chance to talk to Darkside until next weekend, after he's back from GenCon.

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I seem to be starting out with good bus karma today. Fiat closing trumps vigil. Is nails in ears punk rock? kids.

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Modern urban illuminated manuscripts should have grafitti for the big letters. The writing is an art.

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Seriously, the one encounter with M drained me of hope. Cannot cope. Off to Mordor. There are some kinds of stress...

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Bus as clown car. Rude twits at plasma place. Too many people here, but I am on verge of not caring about being late.

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Nice discussion w/ easalle on the issue. And boom it shall be. How big depends on M. Boom today. Yay fixing stuff.

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News from the monkeys: a Black belt chick broke a sink with Morgan's face after his unwelcome advances. Justice!

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The good bus karma continues. I have 10 minutes before I am late. @ 19th & McDowell now waiting. Probably 15 late.

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No visible boom-splosions after I arrived; that happened before. I am getting back in gear w/ crossover.

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With all good luck, no funny business at work this week. Bus people are scary. I am on bus. Therefore, I am scary.

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Vigil @ central & McDowell left a candle burning. It burned way down and was flame on concrete. I blew it out.

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The LF keeps forgetting to bring his spelling list home. Bad Little Fayoumis. I suggested a fiendish penalty: x+5 harder words.

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I have chosen my family, & by Eris, I will keep us together. Cross-country, online, whatever. Mine to me.

A new Shawn Story

In high school, I had this idiot best friend Shawn. Last night, I talked to him voice-to-voice for the first time in about six years. (Six years ago, he stopped by my workplace to shop for a new hard drive with a friend and his daughter; we chatted briefly. Then I left town and we stopped speaking; we started IMing and e-mailing every now and then a few years back.)

He moved back into town within the past month, and he e-mailed me his number. (nilo, he's not of your generation nor is his daughter old enough to be in elementary school quite yet; no need to worry.) We talked.

He's finding it difficult to get a job, because of drug tests. (He's still smoking every substance known to man and then some.) He related his current tale of woe: ( cunning plans and grossness. )

Only Shawn. *sigh* Only Shawn.