Wednesday, September 29, 2004
Oh, and Dave Smith is leaving soon. Going away party is October 9th at The Distillery. He's selling stuff on Ebay. I have no idea if it's all sold, of it's it's just not uploaded yet.
But I donated $10 to his health and wellbeing while away. Apparently there's a pool going on which southeast asian or middle eastern country he will end up buried in. I prefer to think of happier things. Like how he'll bring me a pair of dragon engraved chopsticks from Japan. Yeah.
I bought a 20# box of delicious winesap apples from Apple Hill on Sunday, and they are so yummy I've been eating 2 or 3 a day. I also bought cider and a couple of carameled apples. Yum yum.
I love Autumn. You'd think I'd be jumping out of bed in order to be part of it, but I'm lazing in. I barely get up to shower and feed dogs. I can't get it together enough to make coffee. And like I said, it's going slow. I am turning into a lazy-ass Type C or something.
Probably because I just want November 2 to hurry up and come so that it will be done with. I think that's what's got me so exhausted lately. I can't listen to Air America anymore because I get so upset. Not at the show hosts, but at the GWB playbacks. Every time I hear that man (or limbaugh) talk, my heart starts to pound and my teeth grit together. That cannot be healthy.
My roommate and I are fundamentally different in our thinking about politics. She has decided that because she has no real interest, and is not educated on both spectrums of any given subject, she is not qualified to vote, so she doesn't. I challenged her with "but you want ferrets legalized...you want cheaper, better access to healthcare, non?" She replied "but that's my OPINION. That doesn't necessarily mean it should happen." I was flabbergasted, but I respect her, although she confuses me. I, on the other hand, look for issues that personally affect me, or determine what I think is a more honorable/accountable stance to take and which candidate represents that stance, and vote accordingly. I read both sides in the handbook on subjects/candidates I don't know well, listen to opinions, and vote my conscience, and so far I have not regretted a yay or nay vote in 15 years of voting. Erica's argument is that no matter what, you can never be totally educated about a subject, and so you vote your opinion, never fact, and if something good comes out of it, it's pure luck. She had me going there for a bit. She moral hazarded me for a sec. She's right of course, but that's no reason not to vote. You ALWAYS vote your opinion, and it's always chance that determines whether or not there are bad or good outcomes, depending ON YOUR OPINION. That's a fact.
And just because I'm an opinionated person doesn't mean I'm an expert on any given subject, which is how my opinion can change. That doesn't make me a flip-flopper, and it doesn't make me a bad person. Folks who don't evolve with new information, or who lie about the information, or who deliberately manipulate information, THEY ARE BAD PEOPLE. And that's why when a subject is really important to me, I really delve into it and listen to both sides and go with the one I'm more comfortable with (Kerry). That's why I'm a vicious Demoncrat who is willing to republicannibalize 18 year old GOP brats. Because I'm comfortable with that. Republicans: The Other Other White Meat.
So I really hope that everyone is registered, especially if you've moved from your last place of residence. You have until October 4th and voter registration (the 80 lbs weight kind) forms are at your local post office. Just take a pen, fill it out in the PO, and drop it in the box. Do yourself a favor and register yourself. Apparently in Michigan, registrars are doing FOR you, especially if you're already dead, so you might as well make sure you are at least registered for the proper party. I certainly wouldn't want to make a mistake when I'm out on November 1st on my bloody All Republican Soul's Day harvest.
Monday, September 27, 2004
Saw Resident Evil 2 last night. Yeah, it was bad. But that's not why I'm blogging this morning.
I burned my hands on the SOAP from Regal Theaters Natomas Marketplace YET AGAIN this year( EDIT: I called again and talked to the general manager who is changing it out right now and checking the soap. He said they get two different kinds, an orange one and a pink one, and that he apologized profusely and would talk to Ms. Manager about the way I was treated when I alerted her last night. Maybe I will go back again after all.) I can't remember who I was with besides the PF the last time this happened, but I remember calling the theater after I was on the road and telling them about the bathroom dispensers full of lye. It was the women's bathroom down the right hallway. Well, those sadistic fucks filled the center dispenser in the women's bathroom down the LEFT hallway with the same basic goo, and I caught it as I pumped it out after the movie ended and we were about to head home. Weirdly, the other two dispensers had bright pink, normal soap. It was only the center dispenser with the orange stuff that smelled like a very fresh, very wicked, very bad permanent wave solution that salons in the 70's glopped onto straight hair. You know it's not normal a) from the very strong smell and b) as you frantically try to wash it off, the stuff gets slimier and hotter. THIS SHIT IS FULL OF ACTIVE LYE, or REALLY fuckled up soap, which is also possible, but I had no idea there are people who don't notice the difference and just fill the dispensers anyway.
I told the 12 year old manager right away. She looked at me and asked "what's lye?" I didn't think she's understand "base", so I say "it's an active ingredient in soap." She looks back at her reflection in her desktop computer screen and says, "I'll have our janitorial service take a look." I leave, frustrated. PF and Erica convince me to go back because I'm so upset. They have locked the doors at the theater. My hands are itching like crazy. I bang on the glass door until the popcorn girl opens it and I demand the manager again. I tell her I'm really worried she's not going to do anything, she flounces into her seat and says "I'm going to do something about it." I tell her "My hands are burning!" see, baby kitties have scored my hands with little baby kitty scratches, so my hands are going CRAZY, and the popcorn girl asks me if I want to wash my hands with REAL soap. I say "Hell yeah." I use the pink soap in a different bathroom (I check first to make sure they are all bright pink) and my hands smell like perm solution when I get them wet again.
How is it possible they don't know that someone is either stocking the women's bathroom dispensers with very cheap/bad batched soap, or some sort of toilet bowl cleaner from hell? Can I sue if I don't have any proof besides very dry hands and a 411 call to my cell phone service earlier this year when I complained the first time about the soap? And why has this happened to me twice? Why do I insist on going back to that theater when they don't have good candy and the soap freaks me out?
PF thinks I may be allergic to the soap, but I swear that THIS time the soap in the other dispensers was all bright pink and normal smelling. He was pretty irritated with me for not dragging the pasty manager into the women's bathroom by her marlene dietrich eyebrows and scrubbing her makeup off the left side with the center dispenser and the right side with the pink stuff so she could taste/feel/smell the difference, but she was obviously not interested or giving a shit, so why bother? I was already panicking that my hands were going to turn into Princess Anastasia's murdered Russian familia. I want to write to the corporate or the head manager at the cinema and complain, or put up flyers all over the cars parked in front of the theater. What if some mommy pumps that shit onto her 2 year old's face to clean off chocolate candy smears? I feel like 2 times should do the trick, you know? Someone needs to check the jabon jugs. Some idiot, probably the one who doesn't know spanish and who is 16 and smoking bud in the back room on breaks, is refilling the dispensers with active lye, for fun or fuck up, it's not cool.
I will definitely not be going there again. I have gotten hurt at no less than 3 different movies there, once almost knocking myself out by hitting a wall with my diaphragm at Troy (horrible movie, really wicked dark wall that you can't see and that is only as high as your chest) and now twice I've burnt the crap out of my hands, which wouldn't be so bad, except that they stink like CRAZY.
Oh yeah. And I can no longer be called Type Amelie. I am a Type B. With A+ blood. I want to say something appropriate, like 'Suck it, bitch', but that's not really how I feel. Or how I talk.
However, this next thing makes me pretty mad and frustrated, and I respond with writing, not running through the streets freaking out and wielding baseball bats (although the bike puncher, he was another story. I packed aluminium when that guy was running around.) Basically, Dr. David Hager is being appointed to head the FDA's Reproductive Health Drugs Advisory Committee. This is a man who thinks PMS is cured by reading the bible and birth control is akin to infanticide. This same man was appointed by none other than The Bush From Hellfire and Damnation. Here you thought it was a burning bush doing all the talking, but no, it's the evil, evil Bush from Hell who never actually read the bible, only the cliff notes. I think all these bible thumpers are actually just bible-cliff note thumpers. Somehow they missed the crazy, deliberately angry, totally confusing god part, except when they are deliberately angry about something and then they make it seem like everything the biblical god did justifies their self righteousness. That pisses me off too. Anyway. He is going to keep going until he destroys us all. He has 40 or so more days to do as much damage to our nation and the rest of the planet as possible. We have to get rid of him and all his little appointees, too.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Keychain logo noted today at the coffeehouse:
"BAD BOY BAIL BONDS: Because Your Mama Wants You Home."
I've also been singing "Ding Dong, the Bush Is Dead." Not that he is. And not that I particularly wish that. But it's more wishful thinking metaphorically, plus I like to sing Hi Ho Hi Ho Hi Ho in a munchkinish voice... Anyway, it's metaphorical. As in he's lost this race. Because he's a Bad, bad man. Today he said that Kerry wanted to put Saddam Hussein back in power. I heard it. What is wrong with that man? Kerry actually said that Hussein's evil deserved a special place in hell but that his capture is no reason to celebrate since that alone wasn't enough to throw us into the chaos of a war in the middle east.(paraphrased, okay?) Is Kerry right? Of course he's right. Losing his voice and all, he's right. Bush is a bad person, and what makes him really horrible is that he doesn't even know how nasty and hated and despicable he is. He thinks that's a minor opinion and that it doesn't matter. How does the entire global population of the earth sound when it's pissed off, Mr. Resident? Just some blurry white noise?
If the entire country yells NO! in the forest, and there's no president to hear it, does it make a sound?
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Poinsettia trip was a blast. It was a great group, including the effervescent Preston. It included all the things that make it great: The Alkali Flats singing drunken cowboy songs, Fireworks and pyrotechnics in the desert, campfire eats, alcoholic drinks, and this time I brought long johns and a new -15 degrees sleeping bag. PF bought me a really neat self inflating backpacking pad and I was cozy as a bug in a rug. In fact, I had to unzip the damn thing so that I could get cool again.
We also caravaned to Belmont, NV (about 100 miles north-east from our beloved little mine, across mercurial dirt roads with no names and only a Delorme Gazetteer for guidance...) to hear the Alkali Flats play for a crowd. Crowds in thems parts being about 8-10 people plus our group of 14. They played at Dirty Dicks Saloon after the Belmont Volunteer Firemen's BBQ and Benefit, so we filled up on good eats before they actually played with a local named Paul. That evening, they played at the saloon at the Belmont Inn, a lovely place. It was built in 1862 and the walls are solid stacked mortar and slate. It's amazing. Most of the guys slept in the bunkhouse, but PF and I got a room so as to experience the running water and cozy double bed. We didn't get upstairs until 1 AM or so, and the Alkali Flats were still playing, and apparently we missed a lot of funny commotion, but we were just beat. It took 5 hours to caravan across the desert and we didn't eat dinner, just beer. We woke up to rain, and then sleet, and then SNOW! Enough to more than dust stuff. We were wondering if it was raining back in Sactown, little did we know our blustery chilly little storm would pack a 2 inch punch that would flood Sacto and cause kayaking in the streets...
Later on Sunday we stopped in Manhattan for a beer. The local named Paul took us on a trip to see a mining town right outside of Manhattan (the Manhattan skyline is not as impressive as you might think...) and PF and I got stuck a few miles down a soft loamy hill because we missed a turn. So, we got some hiking in as we wandered back into town (I was worriedly staring at the stormclouds) and ran into Paul the local who eventually ran us back out to the truck. We got uphill again and on our way, but we were 3 hours behind the rest of our caravan. This meant crossing the desert. Alone. In the dark. On dirt roads.
And we did it. I love that PF. He took my advice when I said "I think maybe we should take that road" and on blind faith, we made it back to Poinsettia in time for late dinner. And Maker's Mark. And fireworks that included being bombarded with bottle rockets, which scared my drunk ass enough to jump and run and trip on a log, so now I have boo boo legs. And so then I got REALLY sloshed and went to bed. I love Poinsettia. Don't you?
We got up early and drove home. I noted the baby kitties had learned to eat from a dish a little, which puts them at about 4 weeks now. That means we've had them since they were under a week old. Freaky that Erica and I could keep little fragile things like that alive for so long...
Since I had taken the day off for an extra day in Poinsettia, PF and I took a look at the Sacramento Medical History Museum. It's pretty great, and it's also the only medical history museum in Northern California. I'm shocked that UCSF doesn't have one, but Dr. Bob LaPerrierre, the curator, said "Nope." They are open Mon-Fri 9-4, and you go into the Sierra Sacramento Valley Medical Society building on Elvas at 53rd Street. You know you're in the right place because there will be an iron lung as you walk in the door, and scattered in the entrance are curio cabinets full of curiousities from the 1800s. I was particularly fascinated by the OBGYN display. I had no idea that Midwives delivered live babies and OBGYNs were originally surgeons who extracted killed babies who were not going to be born without killing their own moms during delivery. I also really appreciated the chinese herbalist cabinet, the amazing library, the curio full of quackeries, the first X ray bulb in Sacramento (with it's 1897 bill of sale), and the bovie cauterizer box. Also fascinating to the likes of me was the list of diseases rampant in swampy old Sactown of the Gold Rush, and the names they gave stuff (with the current interpretations of what they might have been refering to back then). In the library you can find all kinds of books, even the ones that list deviancies such as "Homosexuality in America" and others of note. My final favorite was The Leech Mobile Home, a carrying case with live leeches in it, and the medical uses of leeches today and of yesteryear. Man, it's a small museum, but it's jampacked full of fun. We got stuck there for an hour and a half, and it's only one room and half that room is bookshelves. Highly recommended for historically fascinated Sacramentans (and other norcal folks who want to see see see.)
~Amelie, who now needs to take a trip to the Mütter in Penn.
Friday, September 17, 2004
I'm too lazy to go to our group site and download photos of Poinsettia for your enjoyment, so I'm linking to the Ghost Town Explorers site and you can scroll through their slideshow. They have a lot of cool photos from abandoned towns throughout the Western states, so definitely poke around on their site. We are also going to Belmont to watch the Alkali Flats play. I am going to bring a fiddle to town, but not playing it in public no sir. I'll just bring it to test out my rustiness and get a little drunk and try not to break the durn thing. Last time I went, Ursula brought her singing saw and it gave me the idea to bring my violin out this time.
There will probably be some serious exploring going on, as PF and I haven't done any of that since my first trip there. Seamas is going to his auntie's because I really need a break from animals these days. Anyway, it will be four days of deserted bliss.
PF's "cabin" is cabin #1, where the "kitchen" is located for the camp. You can see it in the background of that first photo in the slideshow series. Ghosttowning is really fun, I've been to a few. I've been to Aurora and Bodie and Dogtown. I really really want to get to Panamint City, but that's a seriously wicked hike and backpacking trip. I'd need more gym time for that one.
We'll hike, drink my entire liter bottle of Maker's Mark (plus some old Glenlivet I've been watching evaporate for awhile now and it should be pleasantly concentrated), and hang out with the Western Lore kids. We'll be lacking Guphy and Summer's companionship, but they are going to weddings. Like that's more fun than Poinsettia. Whatever. I will miss their smiling sunburnished faces.
Actually, this will be my first trip out since we mosied out to the salt flats and I got sick later that night all over the campfire last time. Whisky, smokeables and buffalo meat will do that to a gal who is not the party/hearty type. They've been since, so I guess it means I'm just getting caught up.
I really hope we eventually manage to get up to Medicine Lake/California Lava Tubes this year before that region closes access. So amazing, but last time we went (as some folks may recall) I didn't manage to put out the campfire and they tracked us down at the tubes and gave PF a ticket that I ended up helping pay by getting the poor guy a new tire (his was shot from the trip.) Needless to say, I'm now a freak about putting out fires as well everyone should be. If you are afraid to touch it with a bare hand, pour more dirt and water on the sucka.
Also, if you are in CA and you like caves/mines/holes in the ground and whatnot, you should check out the Cavern Tours website for good spots. Once you get up to the Calaveras region, there are maps that will take you to unguided spots like the Twin Bridges, a natural cave formation 2 miles from Moaning Caverns. Nice little hikey, and Moaning Cavern would be really fun to do the extended and very dirty belly crawling tour...
In other news, I decided to fire my PCP today. I am fed up. Basically, I joined the YMCA for some serious muscle workouts and I've been going. I had an orientation with a personal trainer last night, and I loved her. I want to hire her for more extensive info/form assistance. She plays professional football in Oakland and her name is Corey and she's really really cool and fun and brilliant. Anyway, due to my back and ass problems, I needed a doctor's clearance and release signed and faxed to the Y. My request was answered by a doctor's firm NO, we will not sign any releases. Granted, they were the ones who told me I'm too fat and weak in the muscles in my back and that's why I have tailbone pains (although I've since had the radiographs looked at by an indie radiologist who said the are shitty graphs and that I probably have a fracture actually.) They told me to do weight bearing exercise and told me I should join a gym for more regular/regulated exercise. Well, I finally fucking did, and they are now saying they don't sign such sillinesses as releases due to "liability." I responded with "I see. Well, then how do I get rid of Dr. soanso? He and I obviously cannot stand each other and I feel his inadequacies and inavailabitilies to meet my needs as a patient are in rare form today." I think she was pretty flustered by my response, but sure enough, I called and fired him and made a complaint against his office with my insurance company. I only went there because my best friend loved that office, but she spoke about an NP who I've probably seen a few times. Unfortunately, the NPs have no power to sign the release for the exercises they recommended, so I'm going to a smaller and closer office.
Good day to you, sir. I said, GOOD DAY! ~Young Frankenstein
And fuck all off.
"Fuck all off" rhymes with my current soon to be undoctor's name, in case anyone is interested.
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
Everybody Gets A Car...
Oprah gave everyone in her studio audience a car yesterday for her 19th anniversary on the air. That's pretty good. Most people are happy with the seat. I'm not an Oprah fan per se, but I appreciate her power and femaleness, and her obvious generosity. It may not be her dime, but how many celebrities would do that? 7+ mill worth?
I'm really feeling horrible for Floriduh. I feel REALLY bad. I keep having these mischievous thoughts that Jeb Bush is being punished for the fiasco 4 years ago that helped his evil brother become the resident, but I know that's just my evil side coming out. I feel REALLY BAD about the folks who are watching everything they ever owned blow away. If it's not gone yet, from the other two hurricanes, it's gonna be gone in the Eye of Ivan. I also love the way that they name hurricanes both male and female now. I don't know why they had to name them in the first place. I guess it makes them easier to remember. Which scares me about tornadoes. Does that mean there are so many of them that you can't possibly name them anything bigger and badder than F5? We do, of course, name our earthquakes. The Loma Prieta. The Northridge. Etc. Etc. But Tsunamis are not named. I wonder if other people wonder about these things to distraction? In any case, everyone on the east coast, please batten down the hatches, button up, and go buy those umbrellas that don't turn inside out. Or better yet, if you can get out of the state, there are a few mayors in Florida asking that you do just that. That's gotta be scary, when the fucking MAYOR gives up. Of course, I have never understood why everyone in Florida seems to live in tin roofed trailers. They have hurricanes EVERY YEAR. I mean, here, we have a major earthquake maybe once every 10 or so years. We then pass laws so that buildings have to be fortified. Statewide laws, people! Old buildings have to retrofitted within a few years, or condemned. That's the deal. If your trailer blows away in the 3rd storm of the season along with everyone elses, it would stand to reason that the state would pass laws saying Permanent Homes Only or something. I guess Florida actually bankrupted the hurricane insurance industry a few years back, and now everyone has to have hurricane insurance (because the state required mandatory insurance, not better building practices.) The only thing I can think of is that they only get enough money to erect more fragile housing, so the cycle is unbroken.
Anyhow. My roommate has nightmares about volcanoes and earthquakes.
I dream about the undead.
Different strokes for different folks I guess.
Tonight we are honoring Governor Moonbeam at work. Should be interesting. I had to go to the CA History Room to find old info about him. He was not well liked, shall we say, even by his staff...sad.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
things I have accomplished:
Not much. Except I've been extrememly busy trying to accomplish things. I was informed by my landlord over the weekend that I needed to get my garden out in order to save it. He decided to let it all die. Thanks, pal. I spent Saturday recovering it all, not just the special stuff, and Sunday/Monday, I got most of it back in the ground at the new place. I fear I've lost my peonies.
Friday, September 03, 2004
My birthday started with Erica making a face at me and saying "Bleh. You're old." And then we made pancakes. I headed over to my pal Heather's house to treat myself to a bday massage, and she doubled the hours on me! 2 full hours of bliss for the price of one. Needless to say, she really worked my back, shoulders, and neck, so therefore I'm sore. Still, I feel a lot calmer and more amazing than the calm, I am flexible again, and that's a good thing. The extra hour threw me off though, so I was running late to the event that PF had invited me to: his ex-gfriend's (currently one of his best friend's) wedding on my bday, so you can't be late for THAT you know...it was fun. I took 2 motrin 800s and drank 5 glasses of wine. Basically, that got me shaking it in my chair to AC/DC and other bands. The entertainment was one of the groom's father's best friends and it included the dj, an accomplished musician in his own right, playing sax and trumpet along to recordings of Chicago and the like. I don't know when we stopped giggling, probably after PF cut off my juice. It was in Tilden at the Brazil Room. It's got a great roof, a neat fireplace, lovely views, and that's about it. I liked it just fine. The bride was lovely and funny and gracious and I liked her and thought they were very cool. Good party! It's the second wedding I've been to on my bday. The other folks aren't divorced yet, so maybe everyone should get married on September 2.
I took today off, too. I managed to have a lovely drive home through the Altamont Pass. I wanted to see some of the Golden eagles that are apparently killed by the passles because of the fast windmills. I noted that when you are facing east, the windmills on the right are new and slower, the ones on the left are the old murderous ones. Thanks to FPL and PPM, the windmill people. By the way, not all the windfarms kill birds, it's only this one for some reason and they think it's due to air currents that the soaring birds use; the hot air and the cold air mix there, and it lofts up and drops off, and probably the eagles are not pulling up fast enough, so they hit the mills. The slower windmills supposedly stop this death action. If you watch them for awhile, you will see that crows seem to play this weird game where they pop in and out of the blades and don't get hit. Crows are funny animals... Anyway. There was horribl traffic in Stockton. It was godawful. I knew it would be bad, because there were warnings 7 miles before I hit the traffic at March Lane from a weird accident. When I finally reached it, 45 minutes after I saw the first warning about it, it was really odd. I was basically facing a red semi that was facing me in the fast lane and on the center shoulder. It had two trailers each with a cement mixer. The center trailer was tipped over and the cement mixer was blocking the lane. The rear trailer was still upright and attached at the hitch. I wish I had a camera, it was that weird. It also explained why the traffic warnings were in place; that accident had been like that for awhile. Possibly all morning long.
I'm getting ready to feed the baby kitties again. I went out to buy some more KMR; boy, that stuff is expensive!!! I bought the powder because it's more economical, but it's still more than human formula. Or baby goat formula for that matter.
I'm supposed to go to Nicaraguan food tonight, but I'm soooo tired. I could barely open my diet dr. pepper, that's how bad it is. Exhaustion. It's probably caused by all the dust and pollen moving in the air right now. It's crazy windy out. It looks like autumn, except that it's fucking hot and dry and miserable outside. Phooey. I usually like wind, but this crap in the air is just knocking me out.
Okay. Baby Kitties are awake now. Must feed and doody them. I'll post pics next week, they are pretty cute. A black girl with white tipped fur (will probably be a long haired kitty for some lucky person) and a very purry little mackerel tabby boy whose eyes are open. Both like to explore, which is crazy, because hello, that's dangerous. Very hard to keep eyes on Wriggles when you're feeding Squiggles.
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
I suppose I could bore you with how bad my allergies have been and how I'm STILL not done moving out of my house...oh yeah, the landlord moved in on the 29th and I've been cleaning around him and packing up the last vestiges of my crap. I guess that means I have to leave the electricity on and a few lamps for him? I've been civil, of course, but I was so tired after painting the trim in the bathroom and cleaning up the dried paint spatters and finding things I still needed to move out...I am definitely going to go back and steal my black taro plant and a few other choice rarities from my garden (pervuvian daffodils, double bloom pink peonies, giant callas) and I'll leave the mint and the strawberries and the tree fern.
Oh yeah. Life has been incredibly boring for the past 15 days. Although I did manage to get out and eat dinner somewhere good last night: Vientos Mexican Bar And Grill off Pocket Road is deliciousand I now recommend it. The ramen at Edokko at Riverside and Florin is also really good, I forgot I went out to dinner twice this past week. Anyway, I got a mess of fajitas last night and sat outside with the PF and enjoyed the mosquitoes and their West Nile Virus cargo...I'm a Pocket Pet now. Good lord.
I have to hit my old house and clean the kitchen tonight, and then I think I'm done. Done done done.
Which is a good thing, because tomorrow I turn 33 and have nothing much to say for myself.
~Amelie, old old old.
Speaking of old, Summer just emailed me a link to the rants about the Corey Haim "day in the life" video diary. Reading Lite.