I also saw the new Disney theme park, but it didn't fit into the title.

Hello, hi.

It's probably going to take me a little while to get back into the swing of things. I've written bits and pieces of entries, but I'm feeling feverish and incoherent, and I don't have the energy to puzzle the bits together. And I'm talking literally feverish, because I came down with something and now I'm sick. Waah.

I did take a lot of notes during the Europe portion of my vacation. Lots of pictures, too. And with my new scanner (a Christmas present from my generous little sister) I can include them in my entries. The best part of my vacation? It's a toss up. I got to visit the grave of Jim Morrison (and steal some dirt). I got to spend time with my sister and brother-in-law. I went to a lot of museums: the Van Gogh Museum, the Anne Frank House, the Sex Museum, the "Jesus" Museum and the Louvre.

The worst thing about my vacation was that my father had a seizure and spent the night in the hospital. I am still worried about him, since everyone seems to think it was just fainting, and they're all saying he "just fainted". Well, I was there, and it wasn't fainting.

Trying to get any information out of mother is infuriating. Here's a sample conversation with my mother, in which I am trying to deduce if his previous fainting spells, none of which I have witnessed, were actually seizures. Me: "Mom, I don't think he fainted. I think he had a seizure." Mom: "Well, your dad has fainted before." Me: "Are you talking about regular fainting, or are you talking about what happened the other day? Because I think he had a seizure. Has he had seizures before?" Mom: "Yes, he fainted before." See what I mean? Twenty minutes of this, and I still have no idea if he's had a seizure before.

In any case, my parents fly back on Wednesday, and I hope he goes to his own doctor and gets it checked out. And I'll be transcribing the contents of my notebook for a mini-travelogue, too.

After I came back from Holland, I spent a few days in Los Angeles. The weather turned cold and wintery immediately. I can't remember the last time I have actually gone outside and been warm. I went to the new Disney theme park, which doesn't open to the public until February 8. The park is still a work in progress, but the new roller coaster kicks all kinds of ass. I also wrote part of an entry one day. Cue the Fuzzy Lines O' Time Travel, because here it is....

I stopped by my old workplace today, to take Joan out for a birthday lunch. Everyone was happy to see me. I said, "Good to see you! You all look exactly the same."

I know it hasn't been that long since I left... what, six months? But it feels as if I've gone back in time a hundred years. Everyone looks exactly the same. Everyone is wearing the same sad ties, the same tired old skirts. Everyone has dead eyes. How come I never noticed it before? They sit in those familiar ratty desk chairs and allow a little bit of their soul to get sucked away with every punch of the time clock. There but for the grace of... well, myself, I guess.

There but for the grace of myself go I.

Also while in Los Angeles, I went to visit Bruno, who is a newly appointed Minion of the Antichrist, just as I am. We traded notes about how fun and stress-free our jobs are. We exchanged tips on good drinks to concoct while we are working. We ragged on customers. It was fun.

I have to state, publicly, for the record, that I was dead wrong about Bruno. I mean, he was prickly to me when we first met, there's no way around that. It did take a while for us to warm up to each other. (Charlotte says he makes bad first impressions.) But I can see that he and Charlotte are really truly happy with each other, and I didn't think that was going to happen. I was wrong.

They leave love notes for each other. Bruno couldn't stop talking about how he had taken Charlotte to meet the Mighty Ducks for Christmas, and how happy that made him. He obviously cares about her very much. So, uh, remember all that shit I talked about Bruno and how much he sucks? I stand corrected, y'all. Really.

And speaking of standing corrected, I may actually go back and edit a bunch of my old entries. My little sister, god bless her, opened her cute little mouth and told all of our family that I have a web site. Now my brother-in-law Will Not Rest until he finds the address. I don't mind him reading it, but Abby does. There are certain entries (this one comes to mind) that might disappear soon. I have to respect Abby's boundaries.

And I also want to go back and edit out anything I might have said that's crossed other people's boundaries. I used to be a lot more free with my words, back in the day when nobody read my site. But operating on the assumption that everyone I write about will read this site eventually (the Patterson Principle) I want to make sure no boundaries are crossed.

After I got back to L.A., I did some frantic moviegoing. There are still about twenty zillion movies I need to see, but I did go and see the following: State and Main, Billy Elliot, Finding Forrester, Save the Last Dance, and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. All of them were good. Finding Forrester was probably the one I enjoyed the least, and I still enjoyed it. It just lacked humor, and the romance lacked payoff. But I thought State, Billy and Dragon were all phenomenal films. Dance was a satisfying guilty pleasure.

Now I just need to see Traffic, You Can Count on Me, Thirteen Days, Cast Away, The Family Man, Miss Congeniality, Choclat, O Brother, Where Art Thou?...

And finally, on the bird front, my birds still hate each other as much as they ever did. I don't know what to do. I've been allowing Pigwidgeon to sit in Cassie's cage today. It really pisses Cassie off, but I think Pigwidgeon is just trying to make friends, and I feel bad for him. I also can't blame him for preferring Cassie's spacious cage to his cramped one. Obviously, separating them has not done the trick. So now it's time for flood therapy. Pidgie is going to sit in there until Cassie decides to play nice and share, damnit.

In the meantime, I hope she doesn't peck out his eyes.

"With many of my friends, I tend to be very guarded. With you all, I am showing my scars. All my pettiness, all my bullshit--I get to be the hero (or anti-hero if you prefer) of my own novel. People are out there rooting for me. It helps me root for myself."