dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Monday, July 03, 2006

the third of July

I made envelopes out of an old San Francisco calender while Erik watched a lecture about Byzantium. I learned a lot about Basil II.

Erik made us a dinner I like very much involving pretend beer brats which we call "beanerism." It's basically a pretend sausage sandwich, traditionally made on an onion bagel, but today on onion rye bread, with mayo and lettuce. Oh, it's just lovely. The crunch of the toasted oniony bread with the spicy softness of the pretend sausage. The way the mayo unifies it all. This is a pinacle of comfort food in the Taylor-Lundgren household.

He's depressed, not the super-bad kind. He's sitting right now. He has tomorrow off. I'm going to finish up the last few envelopes of this calender and get ready for the next projects.

Today I finished a letter to K and sent enough mail to choke a horse. Luckily, no horses were harmed in the creation of this blog. (But imagined horses. Sorry.)

Today I wrote something about class that I don't know what to do with--it's an essay but reads like a prose-poem sometimes--I'll probably put it in the next zine. Or maybe I'll make a whole zine just about class and publish it anonymously. As I get into more and more personal territory, I feel the need to disguise myself.

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