À Eugène
◊ Just as you get accustomed to the pace of a good, solid downward spiral, God or Chance or Fate or the sheer bloody-mindedness of the universe always thinks it'd be downright hilarious to coat you in metaphysical Crisco, just to see how fast you can slide.
Wait, "metaphysical Crisco"? What kind of metaphor is that? Jesus, I can't even do self-pity without veering off into the absurd. It's probably a matter of weeks before I replace all the main characters of this blog with rhinoceroses.
Anyway. I lost one of my double-pointed knitting needles the other day. I'd bought them not even a week before. I might as well shell out the money for the super-sexy rosewood needles that cost $20 a set when I go to replace them. The rosewood ones feel so cool and smooth and nice that I'd be too busy stroking them and rolling them in my hands like an E'ed-out raver to ever put them down. And if that's not secure enough, maybe I can get a pocket for them grafted to the outside of my leg.
Anyway. Unless there's some kind of catastrophe, I will be leaving for Hawaii next Tuesday. If there is some kind of catastrophe, I will be hiding out at home pretending that I'm away on vacation. If you'd like for me to send you a postcard from Hawaii (doesn't matter if I know you in real life) or from the depths of my closet where I'll be lurking if I can't make it to the tropics, e-mail me with your snail-mail address and I'll send you a picture or a drawing or a case of live maggots, depending on my mood.
Oh, ha ha ha. As if I'd like any of you enough to buy you live maggots when you can make them yourself at home for free.