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Poor, Poor Marilyn Manson. It’s pretty bad, poor guy. I’m drivin’ along, listening to a rock station, when the MM version of “Sweet Dreams” comes on. Ray’s with me. She starts howling. Then she growls. Then she howls some more. We both crack up.

Luck. I’m putting in for a tech writer position at work. Wish me luck.

cube meditation #1 rest; make gaps to be filled in later; space; inconsequentialize incessancies. calgon: where were you when i needed you the most? japanese flute music & little old men w/ brooms: hiding behind the inbox count your blessings, count to ten: you must be joking! take a deep breath: here? with this air?

Rough Month I took a shower yesterday, and I knew that the last couple of months were over when it felt like a crust of scabs just fell off my entire body. Whew. My daughter is becoming a pre-schooler, and my husband is having an early mid-life crisis. But it’s mostly okay now.

Chain Letter: Warning, read at your own risk. Via my brother Matt. Hello, my name is Amber and I suffer from the guilt of not forwarding 50 billion chain letters sent to me by people who actually believe that if you send them on, a poor 6-year-old girl in Arkansas with a breast on her

Theme of the week: The talk at work has been slang. As in, “What up, Dog?” It all started when someone of the hippie generation asked me what “word” meant. “Word is ‘truth,’” I said. “You know, Hallelujiah, that’s the word of the lord. And word to your mother is ‘really big truth.’” Can of

And the quote of the week: “People laughed at Joan of Arc, but she went right ahead and built it.” –Gracie Allen.

Trivia of the week: (From my parents.) A bit of information to help you sleep better now that you know. In the heyday of sailing ships, all war ships and many freighters carried iron cannons. Those cannons fired round iron cannon balls It was necessary to keep a good supply near the cannon, but they

Contratulations! Mike (he works with the South Dakota IRS) had his first oral arguements in front of the state supreme court on Wednesday. The recording is here. Woo Hoo!

More Domestic Life. Warm and fuzzy day. Not a day, just a moment. I sit in a steamy-warm bathroom while my daughter sings a song to a plastic monkey. And rubs bubbles on her face. She can strike a Calgon pose the short length of the tub, still. A couple of much, much, much-abused x-mas