Wow. Okay. So, for the first time in, well, forever, I feel really good. Just... good. It's nice. I got up, I started some coffee, I read a bit of the RB80, and did the morning comix. I think I'm out of the ol' depressive funk, but there's still some major junk left over from that. Man, if we could have junk sales for our psycological damage, that would rule. I'd get rid of so much stuff.

Christ. Well, I'm glad, actually, that I did kind of go crazy there, because it's cut me out of a lot of teliologies, like "Well, I'm going to Grad School here, and I'll live with her, and we'll have great sex and a house with two cats, &c. &c." It's really made me aware of a) how dependant I am on metanarratives, at least personal ones -- the cultural and social ones I can break no problem -- and b) that I tend to create these damn things all the time, and then get really depressed when they don't work out. So, I need to stop that, eh? [1]

Funny, that you're in the best state to date your ex when you have the hindsight to know. Cursed monolithic time.

For those of you just tuning in, this is the first post, so if you're a little confused, hey, you're not alone.

And now for something completely different...

I used to sleep at the foot of Old Glory,
And awake in the dawn's early light.
But much to my surprise,
When I opened my eyes,
I was the victim of The Great Comprimise.

Benedictines RULE. I visited Subiaco (AR) yesterday, and they're just a great bunch of folks, really they are. You should visit them today (and send them Campbell's soup labels -- the monks need a van, even... though... they're... Benedictines... Oh, well).

Today's menu will be soup and milk, followed by pasta [2] and Vernor's Ginger Ale. Vernor's Ginger Ale is a proud sponsor of this blog; it is available wherever fine fizzy fundaments are found.

And now, the Lovely Lemon Sisters will sing "Salve Regina", by Louis Jordan.

[1] "But dreaming just comes natural
like the first breath of a baby
like sunshine and dasies
like the love buried deep in your heart."
-- John Prine, De Trinitate
[2] Pasta may contain BEEF, which is an animal by-product caused by putting small minds in the presence of death. It may also be served with a white sauce, depending on how fancy I'm feeling tonight. It is APHC night, after all.

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