well, it's done. scribble faster #2 is written, laid out, copied, stapled, and ready to be sent out into the world. for now, email me if you want a copy. i'd write more about it, but these last two weeks have been all kinds of frustratingly bad usele

The Cutest Boy in New York has a girlfriend.After five months of empty subway cars and boring walks to work, I saw him again this morning, trudging through the tunnel to transfer trains. I only noticed him because I was looking at the jacket of the g

last year Jay X made an amazing "Best of 2003" mix, which became a staple for me throughout 2004. this year, I have my act together enough to trade her (and Meg too). I started compiling my list in december, finally getting all my songs rip

at 4pm on thursday she called me. "What are you doing tonight?" she asked, and I said I was going home to sit on my couch and watch The O.C. I'd been looking forward to it all week; escapism and simple distraction. It had been a week of rai

today sucks.go away today! you suck!

I was explaining to Austin Mike why I disabled the comments feature, because the last time I pulled them off, he said he missed them.me: People aren't required to leave a name and email to comment, so there's no culpability, just knee-jerk reactionis

the songs are on random but they don't mean anything. it's not fate or a message from above or a portent of things to come that that particular song came on. it's an exercise in memory, that's all. and even though all the songs that follow point to t

we had a league meeting so I went to practice tonight; not to skate but to watch. there was a big turnout, and after the meeting business was out of the way I watched the crowd of girls skate around and around and around the rink, sprinting and doing

walking up the stairs, into the long, long passageway between trains this morning. on one side of the staircase a man handing out copies of Metro, a free NY daily. on the other side of the staircase, five feet away, a woman handing out copies of AM N

on the train this morning I finished reading Amber Gayle's Notta Lotta Love Stories. I'd spent the weekend immersed in love stories; hers and mine and the "erotica" (i.e. porn) I was proofreading for rent money. it made for a strange, mood

i thought i was finally inured to the inevitably of everything i love being coopted in one way or another.and then i saw the ad for the new show "queer eye for the straight girl," and heard the music playing under it. ah, sweet baby! how d

you are tired of the drama and the heartbreak and the angst, so you disengage. you lift yourself up, two inches above the crowd, and survey the scene from there. you are curious and interested, academically; it is people you study, in the universal,

i know you loved them, but the comments are gone. i got tired of people swearing nonsense at me.but, if i have incensed you enough with my silly scribblings that you must make your voice heard instead of just clicking away to a web page that doesn't

I wandered into Ms M's office at the end of the day, the first day back to work. There was hardly anything waiting in my in-box, but the list of things I had to do outside of the office was growing out of control, so I was distracted all day. She and

yesterday, Meg A sent me a link to her photos from last week's trip to wisconsin. I was very excited, because I love pictures. especially pictures of trips and adventures and all your favorite people, captured in a moment looking happy or gleeful or

I sat in a bar in Milwaukee with Meg, surrounded by other people and other people's art. It was fun and inspiring, and we talked about what cool things we could do and make in the coming year. "It's nearly the 31st," I said, "and I don

on repeat...the wisconsin soundtrack: postal service, pinback, and ted leo/rx...more brilliance from retalitory vandalism...mclusky's "she will only bring you happiness"...daniel johnston's "my life is starting over again" and th