they're coming to town, as is Tender Avuncular (aka my new nickname for that fat bastard Morrissey). I am dreaming desperately of summer at this point, deeply sick of work and the cold both, anticipating the music fests and considering the Arctic Monkeys show, but when I looked them up just now I couldn't get around Morrissey popping right up, and it is all just so weird to me. Artpark artist lists are like carbon dating only different, layers of life soundtracks going all the way back to 80's era make-up experiments and forward through decades of regrettable haircuts and whatnot, until you get to the present finally, which then seems like the past waiting horribly to happen :( Mr Avuncular will no doubt stuff his face with a vegan muffin (tastes like saw dust) at Orange Cat and be flirted with by Whatshername Withthenosering who calls me "Mama". I wonder what she'd call him, with her penchant for nicknaming in situ. In the Cat line also that day, perhaps, contemplating the red eye shot or no, I'd studiously ignore him...or be tempted to suggest "Keep your shirt on." Meanwhile, the dream of a cabin continues to be dreamt. This is the reigning fave, but my tarot cards keep saying "nope".