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Blog Like Me

14 · Nov · 2002

I have been sneezing and coughing for five days. After interrogating every person I’ve smooched in the prior week, I have narrowed down the virus carrier to the sanitation worker who stops by on Mondays or the gentleman I became addicted to two weeks ago. Have them arrested and tested! Just a little hokey-jokey for you parental types.

Alas, I have spent too much time alone with a box of Kleenex.

Finally back at work this morning I looked for a little writing inspiration via internet diaries/ journals. Most of you probably don’t realize that milk memo is not the only writing project in which I am a lazy participant.
No, there are several other places in this World Wide Web where I speak my mind freely on subjects ranging from the war in Afghanistan to those little nervy guys who suggested that a cell phone would give me “freedom” It doesn’t matter that maybe no one is reading my quips where I allow my
other 86 personalities wander about. That’s what I like about it. No pressure.

And if you have taken the time to surf that far into places like diary.com, you know what I mean. It is completely liberating to say what you feel, take ownership of it by attaching your pen name (or real name in some cases) and throw it out there to the public. Someone CAN read it, and that’s
what makes you feel brave. You take that chance. And honestly, someone like me IS reading it, though I will not likely write you a note to say so. I mean , I’m just checking to see that my flyaway wit is just as careless as the next girl or guy.

You should try it. You don’t even need the internet. You busy right now? No? OK. Now pull out a blank piece of paper and write this at the top:
“Five words for this day”

Now write down, in no particular order, the first five words that come into your mind. Done? Now, date it and sign your name. It doesn’t have to be your real name, just one that - if I hired an investigator, we could narrow it down to you as the author. (I used to use Rene’ only) Right. Pick up the piece of paper, fold it in half twice and do one of the following:
-
throw it out your office window (this works best if you work in a
tall building downtown)
- put it in a magazine or table book at the local coffee joint
- lodge it between the slats of the picnic table at the park
- leave it sitting on the shelf at the library or book store
- make it into an airplane and throw it down the hall of your
school
- put it into an envelope and mail it to a random address you pick
out of the phone book
- drop it in the trash of your house if you have housemates

Someone is bound to read it! Just knowing that is.... well it’s like therapy, with no negative feedback. Or talking to a stranger on a plane.
(Thank you to my new friend Tobias from Stockholm, by the way) Everyone is
always saying that we should talk about our feelings. That we should get it
out, let go. Maybe all the internet confessors are on to something. Well, at
least they serve for an interesting read on bland working days.

examples of infinite wisdom found on the net:

i had a dream last night wherein i was walking around manhattan with a
very bright and erudite Chihuahua. and at one point we were in a room and
when i opened the door there were 3 little spider monkeys standing outside
the door. so i invited them into my house and that's when i woke up. which
is kind of a shame. cos a dream that involves talking Chihuahuas and 3 fun
spider monkeys should go on for hours and hours.
in the dream it seemed like the most natural thing in the world that this
little Chihuahua would be able to speak. and, for the record, she was a very
bright and well-spoken little Chihuahua.
we're in Florence. which is a very beautiful city. but even the most
beautiful city in the world can't hold a candle to a talking Chihuahua and 3
spider monkeys. --moby

October 3, 2002
ˇYears ago, when I told a friend that I'd begun dating someone new, she
was hurt and jealous. She made a crack about me working on a screenplay with
the new girl; I˙d been writing one with her (never to be finished, of
course). Now, I think back and consider this curiosity: I like to work on
projects with the people I˙m involved with. That might be the key reason
why my marriage was doomed: She had no such drive, no obsessions and
passions. My friends and lovers must have more than a dayjob inside them.
They must be wanting.ˇ Jeff koyen

Monday, Nov. 04, 2002 - 6:03 p.m.
At the beach in santa monica I had written "I love you mom + daddyˇ in
the sand when a not too young, not old stranger came up and asked me the
time. That was his intro into showing me his hotel key. "I love coming to
the beach", he said. He was poor and wearing no underpants, his thin
trousers revealed. I was worried he'd steal my bag. I' just dialed
mum's work and when she answered he didn't leave. Finally I explained I
was a bit busy. "So you want me to move on." "I'm afraid I do."
- penny rene

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