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(no subject)

Leaving Chicago in a few minutes for the train station to New York. Good times were had with various people and now there will be more good times had with more people. That's all I got for now.
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Message From A Girl Without A Permanent Address

Did you ever have the feeling that you wanted to go and still get the feeling that you wanted to stay?
***
All week I've been packing, erranding, dealing with loan paperwork, moving paperwork, mailing boxes, and going to the gym with Eve for a schvitz and a swim, then drinking Detox tea and talking. Swimming at the lake, sunbathing at the beach, the Loganberry Festival, two goodbye parties, housesitting and reading and baking. All the things I like about summer and Whidbey.
***
Did you ever have the feeling that you wanted to go and still get the feeling that you wanted to stay?

red shoes

(no subject)

Every family I babysit or housesit for has the same goddamn Dead Can Dance CD. I'm not sure what to make of it. Dead Can Dance should play Whidbey, I guess.
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Backpackit.com and Sitemeter.com: Can't Live Without Them

I've been using Backpackit.com like it's my job. This is one of the best organizational web apps I've seen around. Ok, it's the only organizational web app I've seen, but I'm in like spit. It rocks. Not only can you make multiple lists and pages and notes, but you can reorder the lists or list items at any time . . . and best of all, you can share them with other users, so it works for group projects. It rawks and seems to be the only thing keeping me on task w/r/t moving, school preparation, and last niggly work projects.

*** 

Also, you there in Denver: do I know you?

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(no subject)

Bobbed my hair Dorothy Parker-style. Just confirms my belief that people who drastically cut or dye their hair just secretly want to be someone else for a little while.

More on this theme: moving always allows one to reinvent their persona to a certain extent. As my moving date looms, I wonder what parts of myself I will pretend I'm going to change or maybe even want to change, but that ultimately will remain exactly the same if not more entrenched in my persona.

What makes a human different from another human? Nothing, I think. A couple years ago I would have said something different, but really, carbon is carbon.
red shoes

(no subject)

There's a weekend-long festival in town this weekend, which I have to work during. No complaints, really.  They need me.

We have a stage set up in front of the shop for music and poetry readings. God knows why (because I know and like the woman organizing it and I wanted to do her a favor and when I said I wanted to back out she said "I already printed up the advertising," to which I said, inwardly, "ADVERTISING?!") I agreed to read my poems. 

So, later today, I give my first public poetry reading. Je suis nervous. Eve is also reading, but I don't have to follow her, which is good. She's brilliant.