Friday, March 12, 2004


Before I explain the headline, let me say this about that: I'm in a very good mood. Feisty. A little bilious, in that, "I have to write about a million essays to express everything I want to say," kind of way. Excited, in that, "holy hell, I may finally have wrestled the concept for my screenplay to the ground" way. Meanwhile, Faith the dog has fallen in love with a woman who owns two Basenjis. It is awesome to behold. Jeff and I will soon eat cumin-dusted salmon. Life is good. I am thinking a lot about women and ambition, and while the answers aren't always pretty, they are fascinating.

That said, I miss my dad. This is the 19th anniversary of his death. This was one of the years I didn't get weepy, but felt lucky he stuck around long enough to clean up his act and embrace the big fat world, including me. The Internet would intrigue him, and South Park would make him laugh. And if there's a heaven, he is blowing tenor sax with Charlie Parker right now.


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