emotional weather report
september 13th, 2000

a licensed poet. what does that mean, to use your poetic license? are you 
assigned a number? what's the test like? do you have to whip up a sonnet 
in 15 seconds or less without any spelling errors? do you have the option 
to register to vote when you get it?

i need to register to vote.

i have so many nifty little graphic projects to work on for other people. 
i only wish i had been doing this earlier in the summer, but for all 
things there are reasons. if i owe you something graphical, be patient 
with me - i promise to get it done! it's really nice to have a semi-useful 
talent. it's much nicer than simply being able to write with your toes. i 
don't even know if i can do that anymore.

my daughter loves to watch the weather report. i have no idea why. when a 
meterologist walks in front of a swirling mass of cold fronts and average 
temperatures, she sits transfixed with eyes glued to the screen. strangest 
thing i've ever seen. maybe she was a meterologist in a past life. and 
maybe i already shared this tidbit of information and now i'm just being 
redundant.

i met the crazy-old-guy-who-rides-the-bike-around-town yesterday. he took 
my picture. he has photography and poetry posted online, he gave me the 
urls. i had always wondered what sort of story was behind those kind of 
people - every town has them. oak ridge had the 
crazy-old-guy-who-walks-really-fast-everywhere. you could not go 
*anywhere* in oak ridge without seeing the guy, walking in a very brisk 
stride, wherever it was he was going to. i have a deep admiration for 
people like that. but this one, the bike guy - he seems to be a collector 
of stories. he's bottling up greeneville, tennessee, in small little 
fragments. it's pretty amazing.

but i need to sleep now. i should have been asleep hours ago. and i 
*still* have homework i need to do. bah humbug.