Dear Diary,

���� It's hard to really describe what you've been missing since I wrote last. It's sort of been... a middling kind of nothing. Maybe it's the weather. Or maybe it's not having internet access outside of work. God, I hope that's not it. The most interesting thing is Cat carving out space in his new surroundings. I guess I'm doing the same although so far I've been low-impact. I did start building a loft, since my room's so tiny. Hey, you know what? Maybe that's really it -- I'm not yet carved into the new surroundings and it feels a little hotel-ish. Hotelish without any vacation. Becky will read that negatively because she hates hotels.

���� I bought an old Japanese copy SG for $99, because it was $99. I shouldn't have done it because I don't really have 99 extra dollars, nor the extra it'll eventually cost to replace the worn saddles & nut, but even with a little buzz on the low E it's really nice and smooth-feeling and -sounding and it lessens the regret of not having bought that perfect old brown one from Barbara in 1999 or whenever that was. Plus Fantayza wants guitar lessons and I could leave the Danelectro with her for practicing.

���� Mom and Dad apparently had a nice talk about selling l'daycare, which we'd all been hoping-for.
���� What just happened right there in that last sentence was that Obi Wan activated hoping's tractor beam on for, reeled it in and then fused the two thereby avoiding a preposition-at-end. It's not a perfect fix -- in fact it's only marginally less incorrect -- but obviously the rebellion will take what it can get.

���� So that's about it, of the day-to-day. I made the best salad ever last night, for my dinner, including beans, celery, and hot peppers. Next week I'll get my computer the necessary hardware for internetting at home. Sometimes I wish I was old already, and everything was settled. It's rare, but sometimes.

���� Oranges and lemons,
����TBOSC


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