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In the stillness, as the evening degrades into humid nighttime as its pieces switch off lamplights flake, and fall upon their beds I remain within my armchair sinking, leaden, through the cushions

Drinking will NOT get my kids through college. It takes nothing away - Just a word on paper: Word pornography. The train's making noises Like a life-support machine. Getting steadily arseholed

I open the remote control curtains, look at the tree outside my window and smile. God it's good to see a tree.

Before I get off the plane I have decided, I'm going to Findhorn. To my tree. I feel the need for ritual. For surrender. For the Findhorn river. Cleansing and Purification. And to see him once more. Of course.

In Gabrielle Roth's book 'Maps to Ecstasy' she tells the story of a monk who falls in love with a woman. He goes to another monk, tells him then asks 'What should I do?' The older monk says, 'Follow your ecstasy.' Obviously, I think he chose to be with the woman he's in love with, no matter what else he had to give up. I don't understand why he wouldn't. I don't.

This is about the shoplifting phenomenom that occurs when it gets near the Holidays.

This story uses bad language (arts skills) and my be offensive to Orientals Second week, Thursday. In addition to bringing my ass over here to help with this new, sales initiative, my company decides to bring a person from the Eastern office. Her name is Cindy, she is Taiwanese; the real pronunciation of her name can only be heard or spoken by aquaticmammals. She is very nice, if I had to guess, only because i know her work history, I'd say 35. You know how, Asian women can either be 17 or 90, like over 90 you can sort of tell their age, but if they're 65, they might as well be 20. She speaks pretty good English but with a seriously awesome Asian flare. Like she will say "Learry." I'll be like, yeah in the Houston office we always include the industry code on each sales order (gosh, I know, riveting), and she's always like "Learry." Go ahead say it out loud, it helps me. When i was a kid, i used to say "Leyyow" or "Bayyet, " Ls and Ys gave me some trouble (please don't ask, why, as a child, i was constantly saying ballet). Well Cindy is not too good with her Rs and Ls. Keep this in mind for later.

So I slept on my new hotel bed for the second time the other night. I can no longer move my neck to the left. Bottom line I feel like Bob Saget on Full House, i am absolutely rigid. i don't know if it is the undulating spring ridges in the mattress, where I find myself in a dyke or valley when I wake, or whether the bed is so old that is it mad at whoever sleeps on it. You know how sometimes you can smell if something is rusty, like a chain-link fence or a old set of nails, well i use another sense, i can actually hear the rust in this bed. The large steel coils inside the mattress squeak with every subtle movement; as if it is an old woman with hip trouble shuffling down some stairs. My neck is so sore. Someone has just walked in the door however, i can not see them b/c they are to my left side and in order to make that kind of maneuver, i have to physically stand and turn my entire body. Yeah, it is fantastic.

when i see you i stumble around to get there....