I took down my New Years post

Somebody actually resolved to visit my blog. So I took down the one entry that just wasn't polished enough for visitors. This is what I salvaged from it.

Basically it started with a letter to Russ:

Sorry no can stay up and wash dishes tonite. Writing fast (blog) and
crashing soon. Worked almost 11 hours; add about 5 more for lunch
break + commute. Tomorrow is my big day for doing stuff around here... That includes a lot of inactivity to clear cobwebs from my head. But that also includes dishes, laundry, cleaning the stove spill and perhaps some sorting of papers.

Thanks for the computer time. Sometimes when you tap your reserves
you put pieces of your mind into play that had spent a lot of time on
the bench. They've all got a lot to say and they all want to speak at
once. You want to take notes but you're usually too beat. Isn't that
usually how it goes? I think I can record some of it for cyberspace
this time around.

Happy New Year, Russ. I hope you all have a good time out there. I
don't understand the lure of it, though. Remember that a lot of us
are sitting it out, relieved that Landrau has excused us from the
festival (Star Trek reference -- you dig?)...


... and then I went into this freewrite that was not a pleasurable read because I was pretty much writing to myself in a junky sort of shorthand...


... Whew I'm really tired now. At work my shoulders gave out before most of the rest of me did.

On the radio you get the jazzy Econ-O-Mix, with Spinderella and Pollyanna gracefully yielding the floor to Raven and Cassandra...

If a child asks how long people have used the vernacular "OK," you have the pleasure of telling the babe that it's like, I dunno, two thousand years old or something ... right? (I'm not gonna look it up right now!)

And then I go into a thing about how English is a hard language that confuses babies, and how babies embrace learning language through constructions but the approach isn't so great for grownups.

Since it was New Year's eve, I touched on the fading memory of greeting the '70's a few hours early to keep my curfew.

Then I whined about a wannabe blog post languishing in a notebook waiting to be ... posted.

And then I said goodnight.