(nightstand)
(x)Prelude to Foundation
:: by Isaac Asimov
(x)Harry Potter: Order of the Phoenix
:: by J.K. Rowling
(x)Bird by Bird
:: by Ann Lamott
(x)Forward the Foundation
:: by Isaac Asimov
(3.9.03-?)One Hundred Years of Solitude
:: by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
(x)Foundation's Edge
:: by Isaac Asimov
(x)Small Wonder
:: by Barbara Kingsolver
(x)Man from Mundania
:: by Piers Anthony
(x)Second Foundation
:: by Isaac Asimov
(x)Daughter of Fortune
:: by Isabel Allende
(x)Foundation and Empire
:: by Asimov
(x)Ender's Game
:: by Orson Scott Card
(x)Blindness
:: by Jose Saramago
(x)A Clockwork Orange
:: by Anthony Burgess
(x)Foundation
:: by Asimov
(x)The Eyre Affair
:: by Jasper Fforde
(x)Immortality
:: by Milan Kundera
(x)In Our Strange Gardens
:: by Michael Quint
(x)Hexwood
:: by Diana Wynne Jones
(x)East of Eden
:: by John Steinbeck
(x)Future Homemakers of America
:: by Laurie Graham
(x)Bel Canto
:: by Ann Patchett
(x)DragonLance Chronicles
:: by Margaret Weis
(x)Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress
:: by Dai Sijie
(Comments)
05.14.03 We're wireless!!
11.21.02 Blog moved from Tripod to BlogSpot. Three cheers for Verizon webspace!
9.24.02 Archives moved to main page.
9.07.02 Internet access available at new apt.!
4.14.02 Due to popular
demand,
the comments section
has been re-instated.
"The
only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad enough to
live, mad to talk, mad to be saved... The ones who never yawn or say
a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow
Roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars."
-Jack Kerouac
[Thursday, September 04, 2003]
The End of Nine.
Funny. The entire concept of Nine revolved around the concept of The Perfect Ten, never quite good enough but always above average. Nine only existed in relation to Ten. Somewhere along the way in the past year, I realized that I'm no longer sure that Ten exists. Or, I've simply ceased to care about it. As such, I've realized that I've outgrown Nine, I'm no longer her, and she's no longer an accurate representation of the place I'm at in my life. At the same time, I recognize that pieces of her will always exist in me, like the little schizophrenic voice that still pops up once in a while to make its voice heard.
With new places, new cities, and new people come new ideas. Farewell, corporate America. May I never see you again unless I need a quick and dirty, soul-sucking way to make a buck.