Friday, Apr. 05, 2002
Dear Diary:

It's been one of those weeks.

Let me just say that the only antidote was to rummage in my old box of tapes, fish out the Tina Turner Live, and set my tape machine to play Ms. Turner's version of ZZ Top's tune "Legs" (or Layaaaaaayyyyygs, as she sings it) until I was exhausted from shimmying.

Oh yes, not only am I ancient enough to own a large box of tapes, AND to know ALL the words to Legs, heck I am of such advanced years that I know how to shimmy.

Sort of.

And of course I had it blasting so loud on the headphones (donned because I didn't want to disturb the kitties' desperately needed 20 3/4 hours of daily sleep) that when the spousal unit came in early I was oblivious of his presence, allowing him to snicker at my pitiful moves.

You know how they say white folks can't dance? Well, when it comes to tripping the light fantastic, I am so bad that white folks consider me the dancing equivalent of an albino. Oh yeah. It's sad.

(Oh, and had anyone else seen me doing my shimmy homage to Ms. Turner's inspired Legs cover, a shallow grave in the woods would have been necessary, of course. The only other song that makes me this stupidly happy is the Weathergirls version of "It's Raining Men". Go ahead, snicker. I can take it.)

Apropos of nothing (oh yes, I AM the Queen of the Non Sequitur. Bow down before my inability to maintain a linear train of thought) am I the only person who misses ZZ Top? Oh, and how about that new Indigo Girls CD, "Become You"? Am I the only person who loves it to pieces?

Hello, my name is Marn and I'm either suffering from spring fever or it's time to be looking at the Ritalin, eh.

Hey, did I mention that the snow is finally melting? It may be gone in a few days. I am dizzy with excitement and the need to kneel in the mud and make things grow.

And most of all ... most of all I need a surfeit of daffodils and I need it now.

--Marn

Old Drivel - New Drivel


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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

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2000, 2001, 2002 Marn. This is me, dagnabbit. You be you.