i'm 40, i'm not 20, 30

This break has been spent with many hours on this laptop, Lappy 486. Too many, in fact, for my lap gets really hot (sounds kinky, isn't) and my brain starts hurting. Wasn't there some inquiries earlier on about how laptops and cellphones cause cancer? Well, I'm pretty sure the tumors on my brain are festering as we speak. Oh, no joking matter, I know, but . . .

Barry Bonds: my family's tired, i'm tired, you guys wanted to hurt me bad enough, you finally got there, WHO? you, you, you, you, you wanted me to jump off the bridge? i've jumped
myvegetablelove: direct transcript
myvegetablelove: what an asshole
Barry Bonds: i'm tired of my kids crying
Barry Bonds: let's go home
urgininthenight: hahaha
Barry Bonds: 'you've already destroyed me, now go pick a different person'
myvegetablelove: geeeeeez.
urgininthenight: nabhabha. whatta whiner

News flash. Barry Bonds is a whiner. Barry Bonds hurt his knee and now might never come back, do you know why? Because he's tired. Of everything. (prompted by his son.)

While watching KTVU news on a mattress with this laptop, I'm looking at lots and lots of study abroad programs. I've got it narrowed down to these:

Here's the shuffle: Cork College/Cork, Ireland, Trinity College/Dublin, Ireland, University of Glasgow/Scotland, University of Edinburgh/Scotland, King's College London, University College London, Goldsmith College London, University of Amsterdam, or Cambridge University (yeah. right.)

I absolutely cannot choose. Luckily, I have time, but really, not too much. I've been playing around with a lot of things - this is what home is for - worrying about real life. College is my shelter from the world, home is my re-opening to it. And the problem is, all my worrying at home is stuffed into a weekend, a week, a few months.

OH NO, the Pope is ailing. Again.

I'm ailing. Spiritually. Musically. Lovingly. Ly.

"Excuse me? Would you like to see some bathing beauties? ... http://www.tubzfremont.com
Come put your tootsies in our tubs."

Late night commercials. No time for self reflection.

And tomorrow? Evita. They need to adore me, so Christian Dior me...