Why Ulster and Orange and not us? I spent last night being jealous of everyone else's weather, and then it started pouring. I could hardly have been expected to sleep at that point. I remember a night years ago when we went for a walk in a thunderstorm. We ended up at that big tree on that little hill, and lay on the grass underneath it, watching the lightning through the branches. We knew that it wasn't the wisest place to spend a thunderstorm, but we didn't care. That night was the best kind of happy and the best kind of sad. It's hard to describe a feeling with words. For me it's enough to remember that we wore hoods, and I could feel his head against mine through the soaked fabric. Rain, rain, rain.

I received an interesting invitation. The best thing about it was the threat of "itinerant" bands.

My radio is feeling clever. Sometimes it comes on all by itself right around midnight. Sometimes it decides that 12:42 in the afternoon is a better time. Sometimes it does both. I would give it a stern lecture, but I'm not sure it would do any good. Radios have little respect for the words of non-radios. I don't think I blame them.

One day I'll arrive at this page having had all the sleep I need and with a perfectly clear head, and I'll say everything I mean to, for a change. Won't that be weird?