"Guns don't kill people. Bad fashion kills people!"

"Life's too short to drink cheap alcohol."

I don't want
No I really don't want
To be John Lithgow
Or Jane Curtin
But I'll settle for love

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hunted by the american dream
 
Wednesday, August 04, 2004  
Jon isn't all that busy. Sure, he's not sitting at home watching Dr. 90210 or something, but still, he need not ignore us so. From a email he sent early today:

I woke up at 1 PM (awesome).
I went down the street to get coffee (awesome).
I read outside for a couple of hours (again, awesome).
I read from Miami and Salvador by Joan Didion (awesome).
I cleaned (not quite awesome, but left feeling v. accomplished).
I went down to Old Town to see a movie (awesome).
I went by myself because Joe and Christopher never called me back (slightly less than awesome).
I saw A Home at the End of the World (awesome, not as good as the book, slightly depressing).
I got on the train to head to Hyde Park for dinner (awesome).
I got a message from Christopher saying there is no dinner because they are fighting (rapidly descending into depression, given my fragile emotional state post-movie and resulting need to be around people I love).
I got a message from Chris saying we're having dinner at his house (awesome, coming back up).
I thought how smart I was just to get on the train (awesome).
I called Chris to tell him I was on my way, left message (awesome).
I receive call from Chris while already in the Loop and he says no dinner (rapid spiral back into depression).
I ride the train back around the circle of the Loop and up to my stop (depression continues).
I go sit at the lake and read and have a drink (awesome, sort of...)
I call my Mom (not helping the depression).
I try, unsuccessfully, to convince my Mom to vote for Kerry because the president hates her son's people (rage/depression).
I go to bar, drink with straight male friends (much, much better).

2:14 PM

Monday, August 02, 2004  
So Jon has disappeared on us.

The other day he and I were emailing when I jokingly requested he give to me his username and password. He has apparently forgotten this blog's existence; I've decided to rectify this most disappointing neglect.

So here I am. Ironic, really, since I rarely update my own blog.

Anyway, an update that most of Mr. Quinn's readers probably need not: Jon's moved. Jon's gainfully employed. Jon's still fabulous, and he's still playing some form of Russian Roulette with his liver.

And since it's something of a leit-motif here at HBTAD: Holy Shit!

Just for good measure, you know.

11:42 AM

 
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