From Nurse Jones: Okay, okay.From Nurse Jones: Okay, okay. Here is some of Column Two. I wrote it while still lurking. But it's all wrong because a lot has changed since then. For one thing, I know some of you through E-mail now, and I'm more than a little embarrassed to send it out, for reasons I explained in a recent post. And it's getting more difficult as time goes on. For some reason, I didn't care so much if strangers read about my innermost thoughts, so long as no one I KNEW found out this stuff. But I've just realized that I am getting to know "you people." Anonymously, sure, but what does that matter? You've formed a mental image of me, just like I have of some of you. Now if I shock and disappoint you, I care. Now it matters what you think of me. In fact, I just turned beet red thinking about the end of Column One. Well, not BEET red, maybe fuchsia. Which has got to be the most carefully spelled color in the midwest, possibly the world. I could NEVER confront anyone that had read Column One and knew all that about me. Except Jay. But here it is, the beginning at least, almost unedited: The List Column Two I'm back. (in a deep, Schwartzenegger-esque voice, with sunglass- es) S.F. is a pretty neat place. Almost worth chucking it all for. I'm surprised everyone doesn't want to live there. I could probably get a job there easier than J could, given what I do. Maybe someday I'll go there and help them do the offbeat things they get away with while even managing to act as if it were all perfectly normal. Start an all-night yoga clinic or something. You laugh. There would be competition. I'm NOT going back to Indiana. My home town is proof that Hell is full and the dead walk the earth. |