the holy grail.

the room in which i am sitting is dark. the two rooms beyond it are lit, and thus their respective doorways are illuminated. my computer screen is also glowing. the stage is set.

my friends tend to be forgiving, nay, embracing, of geeky laughs, nervous ticks, auditory and visual hallucinations, social phobias, and bad taste in music. it seems, therefore, extremely odd that there is a laugh that we all believe to be disconcerting. it is a sad thought, this, but the laugh is indeed creepy.

i have just received a letter that was meant to be delivered to me three years ago. the world is such a very interesting place.

i've been moody and foolish. i should really pierce something.

if all goes well, i should be in philadelphia in twelve hours or so. it will be good to see people i miss. i really should go pack.

someone please take me home.

because today was morrissey's and my father's birthday, i woke up very early and drove across the state to an italian restaurant that was, for a moment, actually part of paris. madame and heather and liz and i had agreed to hold a reunion when we were there around this time last year, and that obligation was fulfilled today. after that i came home to find that the baby was bigger with longer hair, and that she was walking more. oh my goodness, she's the most lovely thing in the world! i cannot imagine what a month will do to her while i'm gone, let alone three.