AOL, Epic: Sit on My Fist. I’ve Got Two.

Words since last Friday morning: 13,289

I wrote about 2200 on the weekend, so I’m averaging just a bit under 4,000 a day. Maybe even less. Still, it’s a good clip.

Caught a light-weight lighting seed.

AOL is refusing to play the clips from Tori’s new album because they’re “not available” in my “area.” Which means fans in Europe, where the tour begins shortly, can’t listen and rate. Convenient? Or just ass-headed? (And does anyone know of a browser that blocks IPs? Maybe that’s the answer for now. I need me some more Tori.)

It rained yesterday. Great shadowy sheets of water dropped from the sky all afternoon into the evening. Didn’t quite save the sheets on the laundry line but it all survived.

Like I said, I’ve quit everything. I even quit the Worst Choir in the World, but that wasn’t a difficult decision. I do miss going with The Frenchman, though.

The dreams, however, are quite a different thing. I wish I could quit those. Many, many dreams where I discover I’m on a train speeding off to parts unknown. Or in a car, low to the ground, racing across a limitless field. I ultimately find myself in the decrepit library of a cranky magician hiding his unshaven mug behind the check out desk, or in one case I found myself with students listening to Nelson Mandela at an UNESCO rally.

I’m lost. I’ve got to get home. The usual.

They started last Thursday, of course.

I hope everyone has fun at WHC who’s going! I’ll miss you guys. Well, not everyone. Breaks are good.

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