oof, you know? Just a few minor problems.

My stomach is growly, but, as often happens, I can't think of any food that is a food I want to eat. Last night I dreamt about toast, but now that I'm awake my mouth wants nothing to do with it. I just need to get past the first bite, and then it'll be fine.

I have to call my father before the end of the day, but it may not be possible. I'm not sure what country he's currently in, and if it's not this one I probably won't be able to get ahold of him anytime soon. So, I look at the phone and think maybe he'll call me. I am lucky sometimes. I won at poker on Saturday night, and I don't even know how to play.

I had a weird email exchange with Michael and I'm now uneasy about seeing or talking to him. I hate the way someone's tone can get lost between one computer and another. Maybe everything's swell. Probably not.

There is a party I don't want to go to, but should. I'll likely end up dodging everyone until tomorrow. I don't want to drink and drink and talk about nothing. Not tonight.

I want to go to movie matinees, all the time. I want to step into a movie theater at nine o'clock at night and have it suddenly become noon. I don't care what happens, on Sunday I'm going to see Red Lights at Kew Gardens. Or maybe We Don't Live Here Anymore. Or maybe both. And someone has a copy of Shaun of the Dead waiting for me.

Jackpot's been making me watch more of his DVDs. My favorite part of those things is when it turns from summer to fall and it just happens. One day it's shorts and the next it's sweaters, the leaves are brown, and there's nothing iffy about any of it.

On Tuesday I was on the verge of late to get somewhere, and racing down a leafy street, and saw standing awkwardly on a corner a boy of about fourteen wearing a brand new bright blue track suit and super curly hair. There was something strangely Olympic about him, with his serious look on his serious face, like at any minute he would begin some sort of serious training, right there on the corner. I forgot my hurry a little bit, and smiled at him, and noticed how warm it was and how much the air smelled like everything summer is supposed to smell like, and it was wonderful. I wish I had a picture of him to carry around in my pocket. I could present it to scowlers, and it might make them giggle a little.

Okay, enough of this. I have things I should be taking care of. I have to figure out some violin business. I have to sort through quite a lot of junk. I have to find my father. I have to make some toast and find a particular videotape. I need a good seaside town, do you know one? Oh, none of this will get done if I keep sitting here.