(yeah, that's a colon and there's no point to it.)

Go read the other accounts of these very same events. Well, some of them, at least.

I got back last night, doug picked me up. This is over, a done deal.

1:23am. Meg and Dana think spent a few minutes snickering at my crappy spelling and grammar. Ben and I helped out the icont girls tonight and fixed up their site with some perl and javascript mojo.

Sarah is driving me to Chicago to catch a flight at 12:00pm so sleep is wasting, err, I'm wasting sleep time. bleah. I have to pack when I get home.

Today we cleaned.

I played three games of chess today. I like chess.

We had bad italian food tonight. And I made an ice cream pie while being questioned about my cooking methods. They dont approve. They don't approve of much, it seems. Or maybe I'm just being pissy. Probably just being pissy, I guess.

It didnt snow today.

I didnt read today like I had planned to do. I didnt do laundry either.

I missed a call from the NYT reporter who is (was?) writing a story about our weekend. My wonderful phone forgot to tell me that I had voicemail which is really going to piss me off if Amy decides to drop us from the story since I didn't return her call.

"Square bottom grass."

"What the fuck?"

"I see what you're saying."

"I actually feel kind of guilty, I've spent the last two days laying around the farmhouse."

5:00am emails.

The snow stuck.

Baby Farty.

Chess and wine.

I leave tomorrow.

At 1:25pm it's snowing and it just began. What were softly lit rows are now barely dusted with snow. Driving back to the farmhouse it fell in a criscross of lines. Some dots lying, landing, on the window and some dots brushing past. Some dots melting and some dots staying. And the dryer releases a puff of white steam, and the snow is briefly disturbed, and the soundtrack plays. Rest my head against the wall. Rest my head against the wall and sigh. Rest. Rest.

A sock monkey in bed, socks on my feet, a down comforter atop, lined sheets below, barns beyond, a whiteboard ahead, and what seems like a general malaise setting in. Or has already set, perhaps. Ben and meg are downstairs cleaning and I should be too, but right now I cant do much of anything. Writing is a stretch. A lamp turns on and underneath it an overflow of clothing-- smoke stained shirts, socks, &c.-- embarass me.

It's these days, these cold days. Holding one's jacket over their head while moving from the car to the house. Staring at the ceiling and deciding, for good, that this has been an exercise in Court. Shonagon would be proud.

M, G, and S left yesterday. With luck I'll see them before I leave for Austin, but I doubt it. March it is, then. All I need is a house and then I should be all set to perform my duty as gracious host.

Last night we watched more movies and laid lazily on couches again. This was, of course, after a rousing few games of Crazy Taxi and a trip to Donut Land. Dana would not drink Eddie the Cat.

We ordered pizza from The Wedge which was good but awkwardly named. The pizza we got was entitled "the buddha" which would make me expect asian themed ingredients (or Indian, but india is part of asia, unless we're taking sub-continents, so it's ok) but it was more greek than anything. And it wasnt even really greek. Well. Whatever. It was good, if greasy.

Quiet. Doors open, windows closed, lamps on, drive crunching, fields growing white, but quiet. All quiet.

It's 2:18am. Today was quite lazy, very mellow, and had weather to match. It seems that the sun is always falling in Iowa. Every time I look out one of the farmhouse's many windows it sppears as if the sun is already setting. This may have something to dow it the time that I get out of bed.

This morning (relatively, 2pm) everyone ate breakfast in the kitchen. Sarah cooked some muffins (blue corn w/ blueberry!) and some pancakes. I whipped up the rest of the bacon and meg made a pot of chai. Good chai, too. Stefan, oh captain my captain, managed to fix Robbie Jr while we were eating. This resulted in lots of robot announcements of "HELLO", "OK, I'm coming", and "excuse me." As it turns out he's quite the existential robot, by 8:00pm he was asking "who am I?"

Robbie Jr. interfaces with furby. The wonders of IR.

We watched The Icestorm in the afternoon, 16 Candles at night, and The Big Chill just now. Farmhouse2k, at times, equals The Big Chill minus a suicide.

Dinner at perkins and a quick trip to the bowling hour only to discover that there was a 45 minute wait, so we opted to watch movies instead. We were joined by a certain Mr. Mike Savitz (spelling assumed) who had just completed a poem about "sex with pirates." These kooky poets!

I showered with my ring on today. I dont know how long I will be able to wear it though, maybe a couple more days if I'm lucky. It's causing a bit of a style nightmare.

Tomorrow morning, err, in a couple hours, we're having brunch at Sarah's house. She has two huge and loveable dogs, one of them even looks like the hell dogs from Ghostbusters.

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