GRRR. ARGH!

I believe that my feelings today can best be described not through words, but through a visual medium consisting of a self portrait.


Nine days. Nine days until I motor up to NY. Where... who knows, maybe I'll have a job waiting for me and maybe not. It's all very casual, apparently, not a big priority for anyone but... oh, ME. Screw it. WE WILL MOTOR REGARDLESS!!

...unless ol' Tropical Storm Irene decides to, you know... STRIKE IN THE EXACT ROUTE WE ARE TAKING! If I were a superstitious kinda guy, I'd be taking all of these little barricades as signs. But no, I choose to think of them as hurdles. Yes, hurdles! And I? I am an olympic hurdler this month. Like... Um. er. FloJo? I don't know any Olympic hurdlers. They need better PR. I shoulda used a biking analogy, then I could've cashed in on the Lance Armstrong craze.

Ah well.
-rick
listening to: Un Metro Cuadrado 1m2 by Jarabe de Palo (and... could this be Chrissie Hynde? Yes, it has to be... who else sounds like Chrissie Hynde? No one, my friends. No one. Appropriately the lyrics are: "i wanna cry/i don't know why") which I am totally loving. Next- Kevin Gilbert.

(PS: Lily if we are not living in the same town within the next 3 weeks? I'm going to do something drastic. Like Patty Hearst kidnapping drastic. I don't wanna hurt your voice mail's feelings, but it's just not as sympathetic as your lovely self in person. although, the message STILL makes me laugh every time I hear it. God bless Gabriel.)