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Mid-January, Rain - January 13, 2012
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October, White - October 31, 2011
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December 28, 2003

12:10am

Smoking Bishop

Something I'm mulling over tonight: You own your experiences, they do not own you. They help define and shape you but they are not your identity. You can thus appreciate them without being held hostage by them.

It took me a really, really long time to work that out.

Holiday question: what is the complaint about fruitcake?

We played a house concert tonight, which was pretty acceptable except for the part about it being so very crowded, I never felt like I grounded before, during or after. So much noise. Everyone was very appreciative and they behaved themselves pretty well (sometimes the crowds are very rowdy, heckling each other and wanting to converse between EVERY song), even the friends-of-daughters-in-college who made up about half the party. A few snuck downstairs after the first few songs, to play cards and get drunk and make out. One kind of handsome kid wanted to shake my hand after the set and tell me what a great job we did, and as he let go his hand s-l-i-d off my palm instead of just letting go, as he smiled into my eyes. Woo, fella, you goin' downstairs? Speaking of which, she said in a complete nonsequitur, I just remembered I had a massive wet dream last night about looking at my OWN fabulous tits in a mirror -- for one brief, shining moment, had the headlights of my dreams -- and is that completely narcissistic? Wouldn't you think my genius sleep-mind could come up with somebody ELSE in the dream to get turned on about? I tell you, the pickin's are slim.

If I start going to bed now, I'll make it to sleep before 2am, which is a recurring goal. Tomorrow I get to go see Dar in a play. Monday the party, Tuesday rehearsal -- an easy and fun three days, complete with sleeping in a bit. Life's pretty good.


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