03 April 2002 - 10:08 p.m.

Feeling much better tonight in spite of lack of sleep. After class, I came home to find the BYM and Statos watching Enterprise over pizza and breadsticks, which solved the question of dinner, and I'd stopped by Borders to pick up Emmanuelle Arsan's Emanuelle and the new Stephanie Laurens (On a Wild Night), which was not only delightful and sexy but quite funny as well, and that solved the question of how I was going to decompress.

In my in-box tonight, some Galway Kinnell, from the Knopf poetry newsletter:

"I have the usual capacity for wanting
what may not even exist. Don't worry.
That is the dew wetting my face."

And also in my inbox, a possible shout-out from the universe via FWA?

TAURUS (April 20-May 20): Scientists say that if you're normal, it would take a solid month of yelling at the top of your lungs to generate enough energy to boil water for a pot of tea. But you're not exactly normal these days. Your anger is of a higher quality than usual and your ability to channel it is far more concentrated. You could probably heat up three cups of Earl Grey with a mere eight hours of hollering. But might I talk you into making more productive uses of such primal force? You could, for instance, actually change the circumstances that are pissing you off.

Last, but not least, insomnia has its uses - I finished the Songs 8:6 piece:

One year ago, I indulged in a collab entry: "Sylvia had not realized how many different shades of black existed until she found herself yearning to touch Mechaieh's hair." :-)