Between the wasabi rushes and the laughing I did during the Simpsons, I must have extended my life six months at the very least.

T


here was a power outage twenty minutes before the end of my shift at Comet. Hmmm... I was the only one here at the time and had to shut down all the machines on my own, in the dark, before the uninterruptable power supplies expired. The first machine I shut down was Atlas, the basket in which I keep all my freshest eggs.

Some half hour after I woke up in the early afternoon, the Comet modems resumed responding to the Kappa Mutha Fucka 486. The email influx was a little high with the connection to the rest of cyberspace being so fresh, so I went to UVA to handle it all.

My return to Kappa Mutha Fucka coincided with the appearance there of Peggy, Zach, an occasionally squalling unnamed Baboose, and Matthew Hart. We had a little picnic in the backyard, drinking Budweisers, eating sushi, and swatting at the numerous grey and white Tiger Mosquitos that joined us.

We went inside to escape from the mosquitos and to listen to Ani DiFranco (yes, Matthew likes Ani DiFranco, though he said that if one of his guy friends should ever walk in the door and overhear it, he'll blame it on Deya, even though Deya hates Ani DiFranco).

The Simpsons came on. It was the one where Bart fell in love with the preacher's daughter, Jessica. Between the wasabi rushes and the laughing I did during the Simpsons, I must have extended my life six months at the very least.

By the way, there is a new Open Pages journal based in Charlottesville. Check out Blue Skied by Nick Britton. He's a student at UVA.

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Get a sense of what I was like exactly eight years ago and one year ago today.

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