December 5, 1999

An interesting afternoon nap. There was an earthquake (in the dream). Not a We're all gonna die! quake, but something minor on the Richter Scale, enough to make me think "Cool! My first earthquake!" I feel the rumble, and the floor seems to tilt a little. I go downstairs to survey the damage. No, there's no damage, and there's no tilt. Everything looks normal. I go to the kitchen, undecided about what to eat; I look at a stack of those flower-shaped cookies and choose that.

Then I wake up. My thoughts are on the food - once in a while I have dreams that contain food, and it usually means I'm hungry. In this case, it was true; I'd skipped breakfast, and lunch was just a random grab of a piece or two of junk food. Luckily, the Co-existing Spicy Chicken and Rice Surprise was slowly percolating in the oven during the "earthquake".

I don't have any flower-shaped cookies ("butter cookies"?), nor do they interest me. Where'd they come from?

Roots benefit reading at The Grind & Gallery.

Was unexpectedly put on first. Read (among other pieces) my quasi-bitter "Going on first" poem about how people who play nice and show up on time are penalized by being put on before the audience fills out and they miss performing for the people they want to be seen by.

Fittingly enough, 20 minutes after my set ends three friends show up.

Manage to offload 50 copies of the Columbia Journal, to acquire a copy of Think Magazine and the lastest issue of the Drippytown Gazette. Learn that hot chocolate (no matter how appropriate to performed materials) and ginger beer just don't mix with a belly full of cheese.

After all is said and done, much more is said than done. Am drawn into conversation with someone who objected to one of my poems. I resolve to be more controversial because this actually allows us to converse, while exchanges with people who like and agree with my work are always limited to "I liked your poem." "Thanks!" (and perhaps a thumbs up gesture to cement the deal...)

Nothing new cranked out so far; perhaps for my radio appearance on Tuesday. Am finding many of my spontaneous, hastily-cranked-out pieces more meritorious (or at least enjoyed by a larger median slice of the audience) than the well-pondered, much-edited and thoroughly-revised finished products. Curious.

Today was a good Everything day.