Mmm, well, tonight sucks. Spoke to Gemini today and I'm still not sure why he called. That was probably the least personal conversation of the week. Also, I'm a little premenstrual, so . . . bloated and weepy. And THAT'S fun. And there was a barbershop quartet singing in the hallway a little while ago, but I don't know why, and that was weird. Poor J must feel like a normal person in a Fellini movie.

Gemini wanted to know if he will be allowed to read the Chronicles of Buttass (nod to janest--that note of yours is seared in his brain for life, and thank you thank you thank you for that!) again. Well, as a matter of fact, no, no you will not, so forget it.

I'm making yogurt. Well, really all I did was heat up the milk, add the starter, wrap up the bowl in a clean towel, and put the whole thing in a warm place. People who have first-hand experience with this sort of thing tell me that this will lead to delicious yogurt. We'll see. J predicted that we will end up with "dry, gunky goo." I don't know where he gets his negativity, I swear.

It's time for me to "relax my mind," as J likes to put it, and stare at my candle. Deepak Chopra tells me that this will do me a world of good, so we'll see.

Wait a sec. Meditation . . . and homemade yogurt . . . I don't know. If you see the word "patchouli" begin to crop up in this diary, a gentle nudge might be in order.

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