12 october 1999 | back | archive | forward

i am sharing my phone number with two outlaws, chris and dorothy hammerman. he owes tons of money. she's a juvenile delinquent. the whole world, it seems, is looking for them, and they are calling me to find them.

i should have known the moment i'd ordered my phoneline that the digits were jinxed. it took four GTE visits, almost $100 and a six-pack of corona to get the line installed. and then it got disconnected four days later.

since it's been reconnected, an event that would under ordinary circumstances and in a normal girl's life go without much fanfare or confusion, i've gotten phonecalls looking for this couple. credit card companies. case workers. and then this morning, a sweet-sounding old lady with a shakey, nervous voice.

"do you know where they are?" she asked, in a bit of a panic.

lady, i wanted to tell her, i don't even know who they are, but i sure would love to meet them. hell, they get more calls than i do.

zack posted new photos that shift everyday things into a whole new light. he also does a comicstrip and submitted to behold, twice. ah, such a nice boy.

my eat-healthy attempt has been buried under my overwhelming desire to eat cheeseburgers.

keep this link because i think it might be cool when it finally launches. also, spacegirl angela martini made this dress-up doll. i used to make paperdolls all the time. yay.

i'm not listening so well, anymore.

maganda looks like it would rhyme with propaganda, but it doesn't.

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