our apartment's absent owners seem like the sort of people who would own a tent. i'm thinking they keep it in the secret closet we're not supposed to open. i'm thinking i could sneak it out and camp on the roof, where the moonlight is gentle and the air doesn't feel like soup, and i'm thinking that joe would stay inside, that the neighbors would lock me out and i'd be forced to shimmy down the fire escape again (which is, mostly, not fun at all). ideas are mostly worthless.

in the debate team years, i had a collection of labels from embassies who'd send me policy papers before conferences. today i received an mp3 of an oprah-related interview from a radio station in seattle. i think the mailings are - complementary?

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