At long last - someone else who knows about Squeeze.

This is Sunday morning, and a lazy Sunday morning it is. The early morning phonecall from my Grandmother admonishing me for not having been home when she called yesterday, jolted me out of dreamland. Then I enjoyed cold pizza for breakfast while watching the dashing George Stephanopoulos on TV. Today's This Week was so incredibly weak and pointless, but it was a gentle way to wake up.

Now the laundry is getting done, and I am deciding about whether or not I should call L&J about going to see the new LOTR flick. We had tentative plans set to see it today, but since none of my messages from the last week have been answered, I'm guessing something has come up. I need caffeine. That will get me in a talkative state. I didn't have any tea with my pizza - that would have been kind of gross. Coffee would have even nastier.

I also have some phonecalls I could make. A couple of international ones, (Calgary and Vienna) and some state to state ones. (Ohio, New Jersey, Wisconsin) I haven't spoken to Funky Squalidina in weeks. Yeah, I know you don't know who the F.S. is, but I thought you'd get a chuckle over her nickname.

It is amazing how many people read my last blog and didn't rush off to read the Dave Barry article. Why don't you people like Dave Barry? He is the best thing to happen to the daily newspaper since the invention of ink.

Someone who lives in this building is cooking something that has a lot of fried onions in it. The strange thing is, I can only smell it in the bathroom. Even after cleaning said bathroom I could still smell it. This has a Disgustingness Factor equal to that of the thought of cold pizza and coffee.

And that's the way it is, December 22, 2002.