I found $100 on the street Monday afternoon. Shannon said it was bad karma to have taken it. 24 hours later my hometown was burning to the ground and my favorite torrent site had been shut down by British and Dutch police, so now at least two international bodies know how many thousands of albums I've stolen over the past few years.
I didn't write much for two days because of these things, and I certainly didn't update the blog.
Other things happened, I'm sure, I just didn't register them. I didn't drink quite as much as you might think either, though I had the added misfortune of having to say goodbye to the few people from class that I really care about, as well as Jane who has been absolutely amazing this semester. If I ever publish a collection of short fiction, confidence-credit has to go to Phillip. A novel; Jane. Poetry is still all mine, no matter how 'vain' some Asian lady might think it is. Billy Collins never said it, and I only listen to him.
Drink Count(10/22): 7
Drink Count(10/23): 6
Drink Count(10/24): 4
Thank the fuck Christ no one I know's home got destroyed (that I know of, at least), but super-sized condolences to anyone who did. Fire is a fickle mother fucker.
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