Wednesday, May. 08, 2002 / 1:22 p.m.

~I'm Sure You Do it Too~

The main thing I've come away with after reading my old journal yesterday is this: I should be writing all of this in yet another book. I'm not too sure of the permanence of Diaryland. When I first came here, looking for a place to write after Themestream went under, I was afraid this was fleeting, then I got comfortable, then I had to deal with major assholes, and now I'm comfortable again. But as Riley asked me yesterday, when she began to uncomfortably probe me about my diary (Jeez, I told her it's private and she kept digging, 'til I finally had to apologize when I was rude in response, telling her my work life is separate from my private life - she is slow to understand things�), why am I here? This should be on paper, for me, so in the future I can come back to it, to now. So I have it to read later. Who's to say this will be here later???

Makes me think. Everything makes me think, but this almost worries me. This, and all the fucked up Google searches which somehow end up here, like the one yesterday for "Audrey Tautou rape". That's fucked. I'm just doing my semi-every so often re-thinking of the whole online journal concept.

I wonder if anyone besides me noticed that the link to Moby's journal, on his web site, now says "Moby Journal" instead of the old "Moby Updates". Someone (Moby?) finally said, Hey, these aren't really tour updates anymore, it's really a journal. An actual journal. And sometimes he worries about how much he's written. But does he ever worry about preserving it? Wanting to or needing to? Last night I read his bio that he wrote for his site. Very interesting. Very funny, enlightening, and all the more endearing. It's getting old, I know, but the more I learn about him the more I like him.

I just updated someone's address, a guy in Virginia, and he spoke really slowly. As slowly as? I don't know, cold molasses being poured through a funnel? Yesterday I updated an address, the street was 'Quay Loop', and the woman calling spelled it instead of saying it. Say it. Does it not sound like 'quaalude'? Sort of? I think she thought so, and I wanted to say, "Hey, like Quaalude!", but I thought that might be inappropriate in case my call was being monitored. Quaaludes were once my main drug. And it was so funny the time David Steinberg was on Tom Snyder's show reminiscing about the joys of Quaaludes in the '70s and early '80s! I was so shocked - and could totally relate. And come to think of it, I haven't seen him interviewed anywhere since. But he had gone into directing for TV, and not many TV directors are interviewed on talk shows. Damn, I miss the Tom Snyder show.

One time I was watching whilst very hopped up on the marijuana and I became totally transfixed, hypnotized if you will, by Tom's outrageously expressive and full eyebrows. Watch them! Up, down, curled, constantly on the move. He was amazing. Craig Kilborn is a poor substitute. Used to be Dave, then Tom, every night. Fun, craziness, then intellectual banter.

I'm actually enjoying going back in time, since yesterday. In so many ways, I preferred then to now.

We had a meeting here at work this morning. It was actually about work. Nothing but work. No touchy feely crap. It was good. One hour of talk about work.

I'm boring right now. I'm not sure why I'm writing at all. Again, I'm re-thinking being here. Don't tell me you don't do the same thing from time to time�

Cost of the War in Iraq
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