beulahbondo's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Where in the world is Beulah Blonkiago? I'm back from the weaving marathon. What I thought might take Friday and Saturday took till 11 pm Monday. That's the way it goes. I have driven 400 miles since Friday morning, and so that you'll be properly impressed, and go oooh Beulah, go Beulah, keep in mind that there have been months in which I drove my powerful Honda Civic maybe four times, not counting moving it for street cleaning. Oooh Beulah! Go Beulah! So I finished the mohair blanket, and tonight I repair the various mistakes and knot the luxurious fringe. Recap of the past few days, Harper's Index style: Pieces of pie eaten since Friday: four Pieces of pie eaten on Thanksgiving: zero Number of former students I saw at the Thanksgiving screening of "Bowling for Columbine": four Number of people on campus this weekend: maybe 3, counting me Number of warp threads in the blanket: 612 Temperature in studio: 56 Number of nights in hotel: 2 Number of nights in hostel: 2 MPH I drove down the icy three-mile downhill from the school to the village my first night there: 15 Gear on same downhill trip: second Hours of NPR listened to during weaving: 12 Hours of oldies radio: 12 CDs in weaving studio that were not Phish, Blues Traveller, or Dave Matthews Band: 3 Tanks of gas there and back: 1 (go Honda! Go Honda!) A Very Bradley Thanksgiving Spent the day itself with Al Bradley, who had that afternoon suffered a car accident that left him severely shaken but his usual peppery self. Pending litigation prevents me from saying too much, but I'll tell you this: "Over the river and through the woods/And into the Festiva we plow." No cell phones were involved, just a boisterous, singing family. I'd also like to mention that while certain people get Googled for their smut, I got Googled on "reapplying twice for college" for an entry on dress shields. In short, I have been leading a wholesome and fibrous life. Even though in the hostel I ate the nice gentle-treader's sandwich by accident, of which more tomorrow.
9:11 p.m. - 2002-12-03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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