October 10, 1996
"Well she picked me up and threw me down, I said please don't hurt me momma...
I thought I had a problem with guitars. I'm now convinced I have only a mild hobby compared to some peoples interests.
As much as my ego would love to be featured here, it ain't gonna happen. But check this out anyway....
Gee it's raining here in Seattle, how strange.... I've got a 7:15 meet so I'm staying up all night to make sure I don't sleep through it. Stange? You betcha! But then my sleep schedule has been so hosed for so long, that this feels normal. Besides, this is the time I like the best....when you can work without all that annoying light. And mirrors....
Rett called fromArizona tonight. I just looked at the phone as it rang thinking "thats odd. No one calls me" while still making no move to answer the thing. I gotta get out more... Seems she passed her ATP (Air Transport Pilot) test, and can now go on to jobs that pay nominally more than the pittance she gets now. She can also fly for larger airlines and more sophisticated planes. She's very happy. I absolutely miss her. I will carry a torch for her for as long as I live. I've said my piece, she's said hers and we moved on. But I think it adds a warmth to our friendship that wouldn't be there otherwise.
Rett says "whats your URL?" I say "No way in hell are you getting my URL!" "Why not?" "Cause I got things in it that I don't want you to know!"
Why is it that we will put a lot of stuff about us on the web for strangers to read, but not anyone we know? bizarre......
Remember Godzilla from a few days ago? Turns out I have Mothra, Guidra or Rodan in the apartment next door. Weird animal calls and thumpings against the wall at odd times of the night. Course, it could just be a normal couple next door....I've made a few weird animal calls myself....
Nah. It's Mothra....I can hear those two little Mermaids singing as I type...
Weave on wit yo bad HTML selves...
Drew
</RANT>
Copyright ©1996. Andrew T. Green. All Rights Reserved.
The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel...... "Neuromancer" --William Gibson
