mainly because, when i'm walking away and he's not done playing, he'll tackle my leg.

just a brief moment ago i spent a few good minutes running around the hall with him chasing me and tackling my leg.

oh what fun i have on saturday nights.

hold me, hold me, never let me go.

i moved to the downtown of this fairly small city in the south.

it's a historic downtown and it has beautiful buildings here and there. this apartment, the bottom floor is split into two offices, both for lawyers.

next door is a funeral home.

my room mate and i stayed up late, last night, talking, after she made us pancakes (i'm in love with anyone who will make pancakes and eat them with me after midnight). we talked about the funeral home next door and how she finds it really interesting.

how, when there is a biker funeral, bikes will line all of this street, all of downtown will be filled with these bikers who cuss and spit, who are loud and loving in their own way.

and then my room mate and i got into a discussion about whether or not ginsberg would be taught in high schools in fifty years. i say no.

i hope i'm incredibly wrong, but i get the feeling i'm not.

at least, hell, master please will not be taught.

that's why i should become a teacher in fifty years, teach ginsberg and bukowski and kees and brautigan and olds.

i am such a dork, it made me incredibly too happy to talk to someone about ginsberg.

my last room mate's on the path to being a vet, and so we talked about horse production and the animals at her clinic, but i couldn't bring up williams' the young housewife poem with her.

which, as it happens, had an influence on me i didn't realize until later. williams, as a whole, had that affect on me. not all of his stuff, just bits and pieces.

i'm a dork.

and as such, i'm now going to go read. because i spent 60 dollars on books tonight.