Monday, June 19, 2006
What I Did This Weekend
In list format:

-Knit, knit, ripped, and knit
-finished a surprise for Spinning Girl
-coughed
-sneezed
-slept
-blew nose
-wished a hundred thousand times that head colds become something of the past
-knit
-dreaded Monday (today)
-dreaded work (today)
-got antsy about the wedding
-got antsier about preparing for a bridal shower (people buy stuff? for me? just because I'm getting hitched? it seems pompous and nice all at once)
-brushed my teeth a gazillion times to get that TASTE of PHLEGM out of my mouth. This tactic failed
-discovered LibriVox
-listened to The Wind in the Willows on LibriVox
-watched Michael putter with his new vehicle.

-Ordered a Confederate Flag for him to wave from Rex, our new monstrosity

-I'm totally kidding about the Confederate Flag. Oh, it's funny. We live by one of those historic battlefields of the Civil War. These are a dime a dozen in the South, which is hilarious, because up North, they've all been paved over for highways and Perkins' restaurants. Anyway, it's a hoot to drive by the Kennesaw Battlefield during one of the Civil War ReEnactments and scream out the window, "WE WON. GET OVER IT!" I swear, someone tried to throw a duplicated saber at us. Someone else yelled, "CONFOUND YOU, UNIONISTS!"

-God. The South. Could someone please get me a job up North where people are normal and the weather has four seasons?

Written by FRITZ
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Name: Fritz

Location: Detroit Rock City!
Where the weak are killed and eaten

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    We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, unremembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning; At the source of the longest river The voice of the hidden waterfall And the children in the apple-tree Not known, because not looked for But heard, half-heard, in the stillness Between two waves of the sea. Quick now, here, now, always— A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one. -T.S. Eliot "Little Gidding"

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