todays memories trudged up by phonecalls:

St. Pancreas, Hampstead, eating it at Keats house and the subsequent venture to McDonalds, crispy duck, prawn, the orange-mouth incident, Muttley, scooby-doo laughs, herpes of the face, the godawful Geoffrey Museum, Bloomsbury, almost meeting Colin Firth, Hey look! It's Rat Race! I hear that stars Rowan Atkinson!!, mythical gorgon-like creature, did she say it?, shutup!, small white boxes containing crunchy bars and aero bars, the tea-cozy hat and it's origins in Cambridge, Alisha getting lost in London, my boyfriend the Yeoman Warder, the tagalongs, I collect spores molds and fungus, HEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYY YOOOOOOUUUUUUUUU GUUUUUUUUUUUYYYYYYYYYYSSSS!, ass cookies, that is the worst Boston accent I've ever heard!, the beep laugh girl on Montel, how it feels to laugh until you choke and/or your sides hurt, the redcoats are coming, wearing socks to bed, Wendy and Stacy's quest for the Timmy-T shirt, our first exposure to Timmy-T and the award bestowed upon him, dancing in the dance cave, Valentines Day of last year, watch out for snakes!, the knot, FINE!, why are my glasses so yellow?, the wall sign, the pizza drawer, Emergency Email Abort Protocol (or EEAP!), Fuck me I love Keats!, Jamie Walters, and of course the many hours spent on the Pitt Shuttle.

You know, I still have that gift certificate for Barnes and Noble.

only one person will understand all of these. for most they'll be an exercise in confusion. move along, move along.