i have always, always, (always) had problems with answering machines. "she's an answering maCHINE!" once i was trying to call madame z-a- to tell her i was going to the er...nat'l concours dinner. and i ended up with something like 3 long silences and an agonized groan. whoo. ineloquent. iie, not even in french. just the thought i'm left with right now. answering machines take you past blindfolds and into sensory deprivation tank except, it's one of those tanks where it's um...clear. and people are laughing at you. in your bacta fluid. but you don't know that. "cause...yeah."

um, prof: "so, class, should we shut down microsoft?"
jo: "er let's talk about the implications for napster."

i'm so stoopit. what i need is a bracing math course. to ream my ego into denigration gear. that's it, the name of my new company...denigration. blah. so to get to the timeline aspect, we went to see the margaret cho moovie (sorry hunn) at the ritz. i think i'd seen bits of it before on tv. still. comforting to hear the sounds of home. and nude food. the tastes of home. bought my books today, paid for the traffic ticket by phone today, reminding myself right here that i lost my bag at evolution last night and i have to call about it. curses.