Verbosity:

I've been having some trouble with my web resources. Hotmail has been on uber fritz for weeks now. I set up a gmail account a few months ago and never really started using it, but am thinking now that I need to make the switch. I can't be left wondering if resumes went out or not.

And then blogger has been interminable of late - freezing up and generally frustrating me. I don't want to bite the hand that feeds as I like my little blog and I've liked these digs, but I might be moving. In fact I might have already moved. The ubiquitous blogger question at this point would be, "would you all follow me if I moved here?" Despite the finished look of it I am not totally committed to this move. It might be a transitional space until I get my own url.

In other news I did get that "nap" in between 5:30 and 8:30 a.m. I paid rent, did four loads of laundry, found a cheap copy of All Tomorrow’s Parties by William Gibson - I am hooked on Gibson - and I got in sixty pages at the Laundromat. I did some booth rearranging. Someone unfolded my velvet wall hangings to see what they were of and then just left them in a heap on the floor – see what I mean – these people are rude (Oh my god, you’re selling the velvet rams and the moose with the canoe? Yup).

I am getting Beth's digital camera tonight and buying my own memory card for it, so the ebay page should be up within the week (Michelle). Stuff is still selling at the booth, but I aim to transition to web sales after all the large items are gone. Don’t get too excited as I am planning to start with comic books. Example: for reasons which entirely escape me I have a complete collection of Dazzler & ROM comic books – including the graphic novels - from the mid seventies. They are in mint condition in the sealed bags. I have all ten volumes of Preacher in trade paperbacks that I bought on ebay five years ago for a hundred bucks. Eventually we’ll get some barware up there, god knows how many shakers and portable bars I have.

I noticed the coconut shell bra sold for twenty bucks. It’s a shame I never saw anybody fun wear it. I think it was a gift from Vick to my ex R when I was visiting Hawaii in 2000. R was not into Polynesian kink. Right now someone in Maplehood, which is where the booth is, could be engaged in some sort of Gilligan’s Island fetish folly. Be ginger with me Ginger.

Venders seem to be fleeing that place like rats off a sinking ship. I worry about Chuck. I think his business days are numbered. That's a tired metaphor isn't it? We don’t generally experience sinking ships like we used to. We don’t experience varmints like we used to either.

I got home today from laundry and two of the maintenance guys were milling around on the front porch.

“You haven’t seen any mice have you?”

“No, but with the pets I don’t imagine that I would.”

“Katie says some kind of mouse got into a loaf of bread. Dragged it across the room. I bet there was only one slice in there, but still, if you see anything call us and we’ll get some traps out.”

“Actually about two weeks ago I opened the door to the basement and there was a squirrel on the steps. I don’t know how he got in, but I just left the outside door open long enough that I figured he got back out.”

“A squirrel huh, yeah that would do it.”

We have squirrels. Fuckers. Or at least we have one rabid non-Atkins squirrel, basement dwelling carb loader! Was there a squirrel at the battle of Marathon? Does anyone get that joke?

My ex Kelly, the one who is an Air Force doctor now, used to work with this rare population of native North American flying squirrels just south of Kirksville. I think they were red and were more gliders than flyers. One of the biology professors was doing research on them and Kelly would climb trees to set traps so they could weigh them and get other poke the critter data of international significance.

They had this odd climbers rig that they would use to ascend the trunks of tall trees without harming the trees. Kelly was such a tomboy – for our second date I brought her coffee at the deer check station where she was using a buck knife to cut back deer mouths so she could age the kills by their molars. She had a butcher’s apron on and was covered in deer blood. Sexy. I brought her my roommate’s neoprene scuba gloves to keep her warm. Awe.

Michelle-in-Columbia’s ex fiancé Chris worked on that flying squirrel project too. I think that’s how I first met Chris. He met Kelly and I out for drinks at the Dukum and told us some bizarre story about swimming naked with manatees off the coast of Florida while under a curtain of stars. All the girls at the table swooned over this story and I think perhaps that Michelle was one of those girls. Commenter/lurker Linnaeus, thoughts? Confirm or deny? Any recollection of a Florida beach story? I ran into his sister at one of the LOTR movies – still doing the pincushion facial accessories that hamper air travel. Didn’t you tell me she got married?

Oh job news – Dan may have a line on getting me on with city government as public tax advocate. I’m up for a little social service and I do my own taxes so this could be a possibility. He got the lead through a Republican Party meeting, so I may have to do a little sleeping with the enemy, maybe not, anyway it’s a possibility and evidence that one does need to work ones network. With the Famous Bar buyout we are looking forward to an expected additional 3000 people out of work in the metro area by the start of summer to add to the TWA kids, so cheers to the competition. Methinks multiple part time gigs will soon be my future. That’s ok. My new goal is to squeeze as many new professions into my life experience as will fit, by retirement my resume will resemble a phone booth stacked full of nineteen fifties college preppies in a Guinness Book of Records photo op. Can I still letter in career diversity? I want a big M on my jacket for multitasking!