monday october 29 2001    |    6:15 p.m.

just in time for halloween, we receive another state-of-high-alert warning from the government. what a ridiculous news conference. as one sassy journalist pointed out, the previous state-of-high-alert was never rescinded, so what's up? ashcroft was haughty. seems this last "information" really is specific to halloween. smart. it'll be hard to pick out the real osama among all the revelers in bin laden costume.

snort.

i'm trying, i'm really trying to fight the cynicism. the iron giant versus 100% sartre. what's a girl to do.

this girl is tired of fighting / but she won't be demolished / and that's her way. this weekend was very telling. really, this is what it told me: cut the bullshit out of your life as soon as you detect it, otherwise you're going to spend a lot of saturday nights up late feeling underappreciated: among other things.

i've been handing out entirely too many second chances, one after the other after the other after the other. at some point "second chance" loses all semblance of meaning and becomes little more than a pile of bullshit. this is what should be intolerable. what is intolerable.

so this weekend i picked up my guitar. not just picked it up and held it and put it down in a panic: i played it and it was familiar and receptive and easy and good. i welcome back the calluses and chipped nails, and the metallic smell of the strings on my fingertips hours later.

i have a job interview tomorrow morning. if they offer, and if i take, i will be making coffee in a bookstore. more importantly i will be making money. and i will have health insurance. as i was telling her i think i'd make a lousy coffee person, but i guess i'll never know until i try. and maybe i'll get discounts on books even if i'm not directly involved with them. right?

x - 2.5 days till nanowrimo. i. can't. wait. and she signed up with me, so if she feels like driving one day, maybe we can go to coffee or lincoln road or the beach and write our seven daily pages longhand.

oh, p.s., a fabulous cartoonist and cover-artist for, among others, the groovie ghoulies, is looking for work. check him out at s.britt dot com if you need webpages designed, cartoons drawn, art made. i don't know him from adam but he is fabulous, fabulous. in the vein of richard scarry and, i don't know, the dead milkmen.

and post-p.s., on wednesday night i have a date with denise, johnny, orestes, and an alarming amount of liquor. damned if i'll allow the government or a band of stinking terrorists to get in the way of my halloween party.