I sit in front of this sticky keyboard, crack my knuckles, and wonder what the booming sound is next door. I'm going to go look. Ah, neighbor Connelly dropping big concrete blocks.

So, eyes wander to the plant--guess I haven't killed it, the bugger--the only one that survived the frickin' freezing house this winter. Paisley's plant from college. The one she named Penis. But, truth is, I think every plant she had she named Penis.

Damn, it's hot in here. I'm going to open a window--my dog stinks. Window open. Nice breeze. I used to swear I'd never have a dog because I just couldn't imagine living with this smell. Love ma Roxy.

For the first time since we bought it in the year 2000 (listen up you PC lovers) our iMac has had an incident. Never glitched before like this--lost all of my emails that I had been saving back from, well. 2000.

So unhappy--lost letters that archived my life from then, in some respects. Emails exchanged between myself and my parents during tense times, friendship hashouts, political debates between myself and my conservative aunt, coordinating of happy times.

When it was certain that they were gone, and my husband had said a dejected "I'm so sorry" for the 20th time as he felt he was to blame for the glitch in the first place, I had to cry a little as I made my turkey sandwich.

Sweet and bitter memories, no longer on my computer hard drive, now just a dim flicker in my brain.