2001-05-22 - 11:12 p.m.

Too punchy to write a fluent entry - here's what's bobbing to and fro near the surface of mechaieh's consciousness: I ripped the pants stepping over the puppy gate. I'd say I jinxed myself if I actually believed in jinxes, but I don't. I saw Memento but not Bringing Up Baby, so I'm up to 50% of last year's movies-watched-in-theaters total. I witnessed a hand-truck fly out of the side of a moving frozen-chicken truck. (The truck never stopped, and the door flapping on it right side kept swinging and swaying...) I piled and nudged and shoved various bags and boxes of recyclables into the Volvo because the big wardrobe boxes wouldn't fit into the Focus. I placed second in the quiz at today's company retreat, which netted me a bottle of Australian shiraz. (I didn't study for it, but I figure it makes up for the times I sweated and crammed and still bricked my shots.) I have Jay and the Americans' Come A Little Bit Closer stuck in my head. I need to find my library card so I can rent the audio version of Fair Stood the Wind From France, for no better reason that that I like the lilt of the title, and because the reader is Nigel Havers. I was flirting with the notion of sneaking in a visit to the Stratford Festival, but fiscal responsibility and social obligations won out. I caught sight of a college classmate's photograph in American Salon where they showed her wearing a wig while acting as a body double in As the World Turns. I just cleaned up the puddle the puppy made under the desk when hiding from the vacumn cleaner. I think that's a sign to blow off the dishes and call it a day - if I believed in signs, which I don't - but neither do I have to believe in something to use it. . .