Driving home last night - you know we are coming out of a new moon - and looked at my rear view mirror. It was black. Bakelite black. I touched it an checked whether the glare filter was on. It wasn't. It was just that there were absolutely no lights behind me - no streetlights, no city glow, no other drivers. It was spooky. I related it to one of my co-workers and he said, "Have you ever seen the film The Thirteenth Floor?"

Tonight going dancing. I have my costume in my car, but don't have the nerve to wear it at work. Only a handful of people are in costume, and none are very elaborate. One woman is dressed as a basket of laundry: she cut a hole in the bottom of a laundry basket and put her legs through, wore old clothes, rubbed some burnt cork on her face, and threw some old clothes and an empty detergent bottle into the basket. Problem is, your first take is she's going to do laundry. Then after a moment, oh, it's a costume.