Good question. NOT!

A snapshot from last night. Ana forgot her cell phone, so she asked me call her a cab. I did, and a couple of minutes later kazia - for no apparent reason - decided that it was now turn for me to call her one. I dialed the number again and had the following exchange:

me: Good evening, I'd like to order a cab to Placeholder Street 16
dispatcher: What for?!

Which might illustrate why I'm still slightly phobic about dealing with the services sector.

Woof woof moo

God it's good to touch base with the hermetic order from time to time. We've all entered new stages of our lives - some more profound than others - and I feel like we're still in the process of finding a way to re-establish our connection in this new reality. But once in a blue moon you meet up, get drunk, and suddenly there's a glimmer of this old, feelgood intensity - set against a new backdrop, but complimenting it rather than flashing in stark contrast.

And it's a heartbreaking sort of pleasure. Like something you're way too young to be nostalgic about.

Transgress a little, Joseph

In this edition of Insomniac Monthly: my slow burn periodically lapses into a sputter, as it is subject to the forces of inertia squared.

Aside from that, I need to be making more money (I've been burning through my savings at an alarming rate over the past few months), and my restrictive information policy is - however indirectly - putting a damper on my social life.

I would also like to post more, but I still have literally nothing to say.

I'm seriously jonesing for a joint pilgrimage to the ducal court. I'm thinking late winer/early spring, circumstances permitting.

Finally, as evidenced by this entry, I'm apparently making a lot of "I" statements, which as we know is the healthiest and most respectful way of addressing your feelings. So kudos to me.

Slow burn

Fall is upon us, and with it everything that it usually seems to bring into my life.

I like clockwork for how you can compare things to it.