08 February, 2004

I Dub Thee Pitiful

Once again, the world changes....

"I spent yesterday reading your blog."

He probably has no idea how that very simple statement hits me like a fist to the solar plexus, nothing but net right to my core. Ah, swift, strong like fine red wine. Smells like love to me.

Okay, so you know what I'm talking about....do you agree with Ginny's assesment of me as pitiful? She says it's sweet, but I'm still pitiful heading toward pathetic.

"Yeah, at eighty miles an hour with your foot on the gas."

It's a knack, I think.

On Sat, 7 Feb 2004, Cybele Pomeroy wrote:

> You're performing TONIGHT???? And it's OPEN TO THE PUBLIC?????
> And THIS is the FIRST I HEAR OF IT??????
> Arrrggghhhhh!!! I would SO be there. Wait, is there still time? It's
four now, can I make it to Maine in four hours?
> Going to MapQuest now.....
> Break a stilt/squeeze those balls/balance a thing/idle a while;
> c
> (missing you, stupid pitiful pathetic, so glad to hear from you,
fourty messages in my inbox, yours the only one I was interested in)

I guess I'm just a complete flake. On the other hand......

"For what it's worth, I think you're one of the least flaky people I've ever met. You're an artist, damn it." -McGraw (who not only sees my level of intensity but ups the ante. Makes me look downright apathetic.)

For anyone interested, no, you can't drive to Maine in four hours. It's four hundred miles.

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