hello, I must be going
Tuesday, Nov. 23, 2004,

I am trapped in an unspeakable hell from which the only escape is death.

AKA work.

I would describe the levels of insanity, futility, and stress I'm currently encountering, but words fail me. This is a textbook example of "how to make whyme snap". I don't know how to deal with it. I don't even know where to begin.

I have some beading ideas that I can't give time or energy to. (As I have none.)
..............................................
I am reading a fascinating book about the lesbian sub-culture of early Hollywood. I don't know how dependable the writer's info is, however, because she conjectures a lot, extrapolating history from wispy hints of ancient rumor.

And she ascribes the death of Virginia Rappe to being raped (with a bottle) by Roscoe Arbuckle. This scenario was discredited years ago, and the common conjecture these days is that she had peritonitis and a ruptured bladder, and it was most likely due to a venereal disease, previous abortion, or bladder infection. That the author didn't have the basic facts of the Arbuckle case leads me to suspect the rest of her research as well.

The end result is me reading along and occasionally muttering "How fascinating!--I wonder if it's true?".
..............................................
I am going to make a Bourbon-Pecan Ring cake to take to P&E's for Thanksgiving. Something fairly easy, but kinda splashy as well.

I also bought to bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon for P. One is a Field Stone, a 2000, which got a really high score (92) from Wine & Spirits magazine. I also got him a bottle of the Little Penguin, because he loves the pengys. Collects penguin stuff. He'll get a small kick from that, I hope. It was only a $5.00 bottle, so if it's good, cool. If not--hey, it's a gag gift!
..............................................
I am out of time for now.