mon Jan 21

I know this is your day off. So I just have posted a brief note about 2nd daughter's aca travail...

Does it all start with a boyfriend? He works, but things seem to be going downhill.

The classic slippery slope.

And I said I'd start helping out with the blogging getting on the bus. I also said something about being head injured and how that was a unique feature, how I thought of a new "Song of Myself" i.e. brain injured and pround of it.

And then I note it was Mailer who'd posted, Advertisements for Myself. And I've got to get my hands on Armies of the Night and the seige of Chicago.

And then my own little latest critique dig: 1-20-09. When Bush will be gone. This has moved me to a Christmas last. Not the most recent one, but the Christmas 2006. When there were a few Bush calendars. And I got on the website and saw, much to sheer ant other amazement, that it clicks the exact seconds.

But that was replaced by a sense of doom: it was like the number of days left were 760 or even 800. I thought, How will we ever survive?

And so I searched and explored and it came right up: the numbers, the seconds just tick ticking away was so thrilling. And then the first number, not near so daunting:

365. 11 hours. and 25 min. It was probaly closer to 30 when I started this post and how deliciously the 30 on day 365 the hours were less than 12...so a little more than half of half of the last day of first day of the year.

It's time to celebrate. I also elongated my bumper sticker but I can't find the black felt tip pen. My own mobile rant: History's worst president. By Bush, By Smirk.

I love bandying about these West O establishments to toot my own political horn!