(Perforated Lines--you can't resist 'em)

(tv)(tv)(tv)(tv)(tv)

(left arrow) Sunday, January 21, 2001 (right arrow)

 

1:57 a.m. Just a tidbit, a moment, a tiny mention that all is well and that I've squandered a few valuable hours watching the Golden Globe awards. I'd not intended to spend the evening so wastefully.

I have a full desk of tasks lined up and waiting and tonight was going to be devoted to learning how to operate the Kagi store so that I can sell fine products over the airwaves rather than watch fine products over the airwaves.

But, I do love a prom dress and a ball gown, and now I've been able to see two nights in a row of them. Hardly anybody looked especially dreadful, and the walking jewelry store approach, in which one's chestle area is just another shop window, is thankfully over.

And yes, you can be too thin. Or too drunk.

Or too tired ...

So I'll leave the stage quietly, before I make a babbling fool of myself.

Dame Elizabeth Taylor. Bob Dylan in a tux. Discuss.

 

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(left dancer) all verbiage © Nancy Hayfield Birnes (right dancer)