24 June 2002 - 11:19 a.m.

I updated yesterday, but it doesn't appear so, because I got the date wrong. Oops. Sometimes I think I'm mildly dyslexic, but only with numbers. Honestly. I can have numbers written down on a piece of paper, and I can read them, and the wrong words come out. Eight in place of five. Seven in place of three. Sometimes I wish I was mildly dyslexic, just so I could explain my erratic number behavior to so many exasperated folk. Maybe I'll just say I am for the hell of it.

In better number news, remember how I said that once I got a job I would get my writing schedule in order? Well, I have. I have a new writing time. To all of you who thought I was totally bullshitting when I said I would get on a real writing schedule when I got a job, I have picked an official writing time: 10:00 am. One! Oh! Oh! Oh! Eh! Em! And I will be sticking to that, for three reasons:

1. I have decided that I will not be idle during my writing time. If I am not writing between 10 and 11, I must clean. Which of course means that I will write!

2. If I average one page a day for the next month, I will have enough pages for my master's thesis A MONTH BEFORE I EVEN ATTEND HOLLINS. I have never been one to pride myself on anything other than procrastination, but I figure, I only have 9 months to par-tay with Jess, Heather, Erin, and the Notorious RHWD, so I really ought to get the Great American Thesis out of the way first, right?

3. One of my pet peeves is the shortening of the word "delicious" into "delish." IT. SOUNDS. STUPID. If you don't agree, start shortening "vicious" to "vish" and "malicious" to "malish" and "superstitious" to "superstish," and see if you can ever take yourself seriously again. And know that there is an SNL sketch making fun of people like you, and yes, it does involve Tim Meadows saying the line, "I used to have a girlfriend in Calif, but I told her I couldn't handle a long-D relaish." Yeah, it's funny when it's a Comedy Central rerun, but can you really be that guy?

I don't really know how writing every day will stop the bastardization of the word delicious, which I feel derives a portion of its meaning from its three langourous syllables in sibilant sucession, but if I never become the world's leading expert on Jimmy Stewart, if I never write a better book on American Film Musicals than The American Film Musical, and if I never pen a novel of high enough quality to not only publish, but dedicate to Aitch, I will do something about the dreaded delish. And that is a promise.

What I'm wearing:

What I'm reading:

What I'm doing after this: