Personal

Diary: November 1985.

Honestly, I remember nothing or near-nothing about this month. I certainly don’t remember the upshot of Reagan v. Mondale. But does anyone, really?

I had been home-schooled for a few months now, so everything was fresh and bright and exciting. It was colder, so I doubt we were hitting any zoos; this might have been about when I had my brief stint in gymnastics (which went find, aside from my being a little hellion) until I got a piece of foam stuck in my eyes and cried and cried).

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Diary: November 1985. Read More »

Diary: November 2003.

This was one of those months that came at a generally frustrating time in life, and so I really only remember a couple specifically memorable events.

I was tying to direct the Nocturnal’s production of Shelley’s Cenci, but I was running into just about every barrier along the way… lack of space, lack of fund, unable to find a full cast; ideally I would have either quit my job to pursue these problems full-time or have aborted the project then and there.

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Diary: October 2004.

I have to point out from time to time that it is completely random which month I write about… half of the time, I flip a coin, with heads meaning that I write from the most recent four year period (ie.

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Diary: October 2004. Read More »

Diary: Gus Coyne, the Fish; May He Rest In Peace.

Sometime during the day yesterday our Apache Cichlid, Gus, died.

We had seen this coming for a couple days; for over a week his tail’s been getting thinner and thinner and her rarely emerged from his log, even to eat.

In the last few days we transferred him to a separate bowl where he might not be harrassed by those frantic tetras, and we poured in some fishy medicine, and put in the ceramic shark so he’d have a place to hide.

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Diary: Gus Coyne, the Fish; May He Rest In Peace. Read More »

Diary: September 2004.

This was one for the books.

On the day last weekend of August I held a Housecooling Party at my small studio in McKinley Park. I was almost one year from being married and (hopefully) grad school, and one of my best friends, Sam, was moving to Chicago to be my roommate.

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Diary: September 2004. Read More »

Diary: September 1996.

On the last weekend before Labor Day Mitch and I borrowed my parents car to go camping at Warren Dunes State Park. For five dollars that year, one could camp on the parking lot (“ash-fault” the way Mitch said it), and so we pitched a tiny-dome tent and joined a sort-of weird community of St.

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Diary: September 1996. Read More »

Diary: September 1988.

I don’t remember anything specifically from this month, so I will add a memory that may or may not have been from this period.

One autumn in the middle of the time when I was home schooled, my mom made a trip to a store based out of a house where she bought her teachers’ supplies.

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Diary: September 1988. Read More »

Diary: September 2003.

This was a very quiet month.

It was the last month at my lease at an address on the Eastside of Flint: Maryland Ave between Minnesota and Iowa. I’d been working at Angelo’s all summer, hadn’t really made any money, hadn’t really lost any either, and I decided to take a break.

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Diary: September 2003. Read More »

Diary: August 1996.

This month struck me as I climbed out of a dizzy and wonderful summer. This summer I had participated in the restaging of The Seventh Dream at Flint Youth Theatre, attended the Reynold’s Young Writers Workshop in Granville, Ohio, came back just in time to see the Smashing Pumpkins in concert with my best friend, got a crush on a girl, took a trig class at Mott college, played Friend Hare in FYT’s version of Bambi, and started dating a 16-year old named Lori.

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Diary: August 1987.

I have several specific memories of this month, but only a few of them are certainly correct.

This was the summer, if I am remembering correctly, when I took Judo lessons on the Eastside with most of the kids from my block: there were Stanleys and Teslars and Lameres there.

… Read the rest

Diary: August 1987. Read More »

I have to point out from time to time that it is completely random which month I write about… half of the time, I flip a coin, with heads meaning that I write from the most recent four year period (ie.

This was one for the books. On the day last weekend of August I held a Housecooling Party at my small studio in McKinley Park. I was almost one year from being married and (hopefully) grad school, and one of my best friends, Sam, was moving to Chicago to be my roommate.

On the last weekend before Labor Day Mitch and I borrowed my parents car to go camping at Warren Dunes State Park. For five dollars that year, one could camp on the parking lot (“ash-fault” the way Mitch said it), and so we pitched a tiny-dome tent and joined a sort-of weird community of St.

I don’t remember anything specifically from this month, so I will add a memory that may or may not have been from this period. One autumn in the middle of the time when I was home schooled, my mom made a trip to a store based out of a house where she bought her teachers’ supplies.

This was a very quiet month. It was the last month at my lease at an address on the Eastside of Flint: Maryland Ave between Minnesota and Iowa. I’d been working at Angelo’s all summer, hadn’t really made any money, hadn’t really lost any either, and I decided to take a break.

I have several specific memories of this month, but only a few of them are certainly correct. This was the summer, if I am remembering correctly, when I took Judo lessons on the Eastside with most of the kids from my block: there were Stanleys and Teslars and Lameres there.

This was one for the books.

On the day last weekend of August I held a Housecooling Party at my small studio in McKinley Park. I was almost one year from being married and (hopefully) grad school, and one of my best friends, Sam, was moving to Chicago to be my roommate.

I don’t remember anything specifically from this month, so I will add a memory that may or may not have been from this period.

One autumn in the middle of the time when I was home schooled, my mom made a trip to a store based out of a house where she bought her teachers’ supplies.

This was a very quiet month.

It was the last month at my lease at an address on the Eastside of Flint: Maryland Ave between Minnesota and Iowa. I’d been working at Angelo’s all summer, hadn’t really made any money, hadn’t really lost any either, and I decided to take a break.

I have several specific memories of this month, but only a few of them are certainly correct.

This was the summer, if I am remembering correctly, when I took Judo lessons on the Eastside with most of the kids from my block: there were Stanleys and Teslars and Lameres there.