I’ve been scrambling around trying to get all this mail crap ready to drop off at the post office before i head to my parents. Then I remember that ol’ toasty, jell-o loving rob didn’t want a letter. he wanted some random scrap from my house, some newspaper or doodle or something.

so, i set out to find something suitable to send to rob, something right here from stinkopolis. what i find is an old clip from my college clip file. an old story i wrote. still, after 6 years it’s pretty damn good. i am impressed with myself. but digging out this story, reading it, has gotten me lost on memory lane. i am all wistful grining and faraway. it’s amazing how much one can remember about a specific, random day in their life.

it was snowing that day. it was mid-october. i was wearing a brown skirt and new birkenstocks. it was chilly, i was sick. a cold and a fever. see how i remember all that? it was the day after the martin zellar concert. lafrenz had just broken my heart for the 329th time. i didn’t want to cover the story. i was tired and sick and heartbroken and hung over. but goetz and melissa talked me into it. it was one of the best stories i ever wrote. a preacher on campus, it turned out wonderfully. the preacher called everyone sinners and talked about masturbation. the pictures were excellent. plus lafrenz apologized for whatever it was that had made me so angry that i wouldn’t talk to him, which made my twisted 23-year-old heart pound all the more for him. what a day that was.