in my cd player... Stretch Princess eponymous It's The Sundays, The Innocence Mission, Mary Me Jane, and Veruca Salt all wrapped in one... odd

on the page... An endless stream of magazines that keep filling my mailbox, begging to be read

gone but slaving as usual... It's been a while. Hi. How are you? I've been hard at work the past few days trying out some new code"y" things. Links, you'll no doubt notice right away oh-perceptive-one, are no longer underlined, but instead bold and colored. Not only that, but if you're using IE (because I haven't got all the Netscape kinks worked out yet) they change color when you hover over them, much in the same way Todd hovers over me when it's 11:58am and time for lunch. Anyway, off track again. Enjoy.

in my dreams... Days are sleepy, always shadowed in some obscure way. Slowly, I row to a new perspective

oblivious... Last Thursday, Todd and I got into the elevator at the end of the day, had a {no exaggeration} ten-minute conversation, and then finally the doors opened just one floor below ours. We were completely puzzled by the situation until we realized that we had forgotten to push a button... and had been standing in a still elevator all that time. Had it not been for Ben, with his genius and forethought to actually PUSH an elevator button, we'd surely be there still.

in my comment field... "I get all confused and hung up running from one falling star to another 'till I drop. I had nothing to offer people but my own confusion." Jack Kerouac

in the village... Last Friday the streets were packed as we made our way to Marie's for a song or two...

futon anyone?... It's that time again when U-Hauls permeate the streets of Boston... September 1, when every lease ends in a college town. Every morning Todd tells me about the selections of carpets, futons, and halogen lamps that litter the sidewalk in front of his apartment, anyone's for the taking... and my question: what is so inherently unlovable about futons and halogen lamps?