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From the Ends of the Earth

Yikes! Move from one apartment to another, and suddenly things just go to hell. I’ve managed (barely) to keep up with Rabbit Rue, but all my other activities have seemed to suffer. And then of course, they had to release the end of Harry Potter, and my weekend was pretty much shot. So, onward and forward, I’ve got some catching-up to do. But there are worse things. Like buying bookcases so I can unpack my books, waiting to receive my New 40" LCD and its accompanying entertainment center, so those’ll be fun to haul into my apartment.

Gone a Gander

There comes a time in a person’s life when they just wonder… why? Today I plucked two grey hairs. This by itself is not notable. What struck me, was that they were both in my eyebrows. Considering the relative distribution of hair follicles across various parts of my scalp, two in such a small area bodes badly. Then I noticed I have quite a few coming in on the sides… sides I normally have shaved down to 1/4 inch, but it’s been a while since I’ve been in for a haircut.

Disturbing Trains, With a Dash of Paprika

Let there be… disturbing art! I’ve finally managed to work my artist’s wonderful rendition of Rabbit Rue’s true horror into the site design. It’s a work in progress, but it still looks better than without, in my opinion. Hopefully I can tweak the design a little and leave it alone for a while. I’m moving to Evanston. I’m pretty sure of this. Nothing against Chicago, but threatening to shut down the Purple Line express, which ferries my worthless carcass to and from work, and/or raise the rates from $1.

Darkness Without Light

I have begun chapter nine of my ongoing tale of Rabbit Rue, which has just recently crossed the threshold of 130 pages. After I’ve written a few more of these books, I’ll consider this a mere trifle, but for now, that sheer amount of information is daunting. That I’ve created something that would require hours of reading dismays and bewilders my sensibilities, like a budding architect who has accidentally designed the Sistine Chapel.

Just Call Me Dr. Party Pants

Amanda, I won’t tell you not to worry over your mother, nor to break your vigil, though these past few weeks have been an unjust burden. Like the rest of your friends and family, I can hope for the best, and pray that is enough. Neither can I speak for her, though while I remained incoherent and delirious after my heart surgery, I was glad for the company. You’re doing everything right kid, just don’t go overboard.