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His bowtie is really a camera

I woke up early this morning — 5:30 — too excited to sleep. Not going to post about the exciting thing for a few more days, when it’s for sure. But staying in bed was boring and I have been regretting the loss of time to sit around and do nothing in the mornings, so I got up, hoping to get some of that sitting around done before my 7:08 bus. I was full of thoughts about things to write here, but on the way from the bed to the couch, I lost them all.
Nothing much happens anymore. I still haven’t seen Brokeback Mountain; I haven’t been sewing or knitting or going to shows. I do have tickets for Rhett at the Showbox, and for Eef of Clem Snide solo at the Crocodile, though, so that’s good. I have been getting a bit better about keeping in touch (thanks, Google Chat!) and have joined the LAME-ASS gym, stupid 24-Hour Fitness, which I hate but must keep up until it gets warm enough for me to run outside again. Work is fine: a bit stressful, but it should calm down again soon.
And that’s all that ever happens to me.

(song: “America,” Simon & Garfunkel)

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