Wednesday, March 5, 2003

home again

I waited too long to write this entry. I know a little about this day, about what I did. Not much, though.

I think I exercised. I think I talked to my dad and let him know we were safely home.

I know we went to our one and only Lady Longhorn game of the year. Erwin Center is being renovated. We went to Brick Oven first and then walked up there. We had to go all the way to the north entrance to get in. Our seats were on an aisle but not one that allowed you to go up. You couldn't see well and it was claustrophobic and scary. The team almost screwed the pooch and we blamed this on our presence.The people next to us said, "No one has sat in those seats all season."

"Good reason for that," I said. "They are our season tickets."

old glory in Grand Central Station

"On several occasions I have actually read parts of my diary aloud to someone. But too much 'publicity' is destructive to a diary, because the diarist begins, unconsciously perhaps, to leave out, to tone down, to pep up, to falsify experience, and the reason for the undertaking becomes buried beneath posings."

Gail Godwin, A Diarist on Diarists

 

JUST TYPING
The flag.
A symbol.
On a TShirt.
In the sixties.
Desecration.
After 9/11.
On anything.
A tribute.
Now.
A symbol of agreement.
With a war, an invasion.
Just a flag.