Your correspondent, who was up until sometime after 3:30 and at her desk in the neighborhood of five hours later, was alternately busy today and feeling too worn out and fragile to put a sentence together; she was so dopey that when she read that the Kings were still in the playoffs, she forgot that she knows this isn�t so. Now it is almost quitting time. She would like the record to show that at heart, she is a good egg, and also that she would like you know it. Your correspondent, whose moisturizer belies her unrestful night, managed to throw together a devastatingly attractive ensemble of tailored gray knee-length skirt, gray and blue and white striped transparent floaty silk blouse over white bra-camisole dealie with low neckline, the Miss Moneypenny heels, and amazing off-white tulle tights from my sister that also have a row of tiny seed pearls up the back like a seam, spaced about an inch apart from just above the heel to just below the knee. So don�t cry for her, Argentina.

Your correspondent is weary and so not sure about this Sasquatch Festival thing, but she is going, she will go.

Tonight: to car, to fruit stand, to pack my shit, to Steve�s, to supermarket, to Linda�s. Straight to the B-A-R, where I told Vanessa I don�t know what I�m drinking but I know it�s doubles. Naked day on Monday!

Melissa favors long vests with pockets, weskits I think they are called, and I had two I never wear anymore so I dug them out of the Salvation Army bag and brought them in for her to try on. She liked them both. The deep brown one with the elaborate black frog fasteners, which for a long time was the most expensive article of clothing I�d ever bought (this was in college; I saw it in the Designers section of Value Village and could not leave without making it mine), was what I was wearing the night I officially fell in L-O-V-E with Andy "Ratboy" B. We went for a walk, and we kept going and kept talking all night until I could feel the stress fractures in my legs opening up, and I didn�t even care, it was as if I could notice pain but not feel it. Then we went to the Diner around four in the morning for coffee and fries even though he had to be at work at seven and I had an eight o�clock class. He said I looked pretty despite my exhaustion and I said, It�s funny, whenever I stay up all night there�s always going to be someone telling me I look great and asking me what I�m doing differently. He didn�t say anything, he looked at me and then away, and I realized, in that second knowing it as if the thing had already happened in a book and was just waiting for me to turn to its page, We�re going to sleep together. I hope you like the vest, Melissa.

In addition to the fractures, it turned out I sprained my ankle that night, and when I had to take my ballroom dancing test a few days later, I got a C in polka.

I am so tired and depleted. I am, yeah, exhausted. I apologize if this entry S-U-X. Happy holiday to all.