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In the mail again, just can’t wait to get in the mail again… “Customer Service” is in the mail again, this time to Hoot Island. “As usual, everything was wrong when I arrived at work. Bob hadn’t opened the case on that system I told you about on Thursday, let alone replaced the video card. […]

Haircut update. Lee said it looked perky. Apparently that means he likes it. Heh.

Million. I figures out how to cut a couple hundred words out of “One Cool Million.” I thought. Turns out, what with I’ve learned since I sent the thing out the first time (December 2001), I was able to cut…uh, 2500 words. Rereading it, I finally admitted to myself that it wasn’t as baaaad as

Words, to paraphrase, almost mean stuff. Ray can say, “Nie nie nie nie nie” and “dada” and “mama” and “mymymy” and all sorts of squealing zrrbts. She doesn’t mean anything by it, though. Yet. And she’ll look up if you say her name a couple of times. Whereas she’ll ignore you if you say “bebe.”

Hack job. Got a haircut. It was a walk-in appointment at Costcutters at the mall. I don’t know, the last time I established a relationship with a hairdresser it was with my then-aunt, who, as it turns out, isn’t mentally stable enough to stay on Prozac and threatens to kill herself every once in a

Raynotes. Her face is changing. Every day it seems she’s a little more aware of her surroundings. She likes to hang out with a three-year old Lantina kid next door that doesn’t speak a word of English. And she figured out how to pull down the zipper of my sweater…you don’t know how hard that

Celebration! Lee just got his MCP computer certification yesterday! AND after Microsoft threw in many questions that their official home-study book didn’t cover…ooh…tricky.

The Maltese…Chicken? I read www.epicurious.com regularly. I get the newsletter. Included in this week’s recipies…The Maltese Chicken. “At the beach in Malta, the locals eat fried rabbit, rather than burgers, with fries. I’ve adapted the recipe by using chicken and sweetening the gravy with a touch of honey.”–From Bon Appetit Magazine.

Stuff. Oh, please please please… It looks like I’m going to be able to take Tai Chi classes once a week. Yatayatayatayata! Ladies and gents, the world’s first tap-dancing tai chi grand master! Bad jokes…. One of the people that I work with (over e-mail; she’s located in another state) is leaving to go back

Reviews. The Big Sleep, Red Harvest, Ghormenghast, From Hell. The Big Sleep, by Raymond Chandler. I’ll try to say something other than “Dashiell Hammett is better.” (He is.) Here goes…Chandler is better at classical plotting: the ending delivers what the beginning promises. Chandler is better at making vivid characters, sometimes garishly so. I could go