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i am not a stuffed tiger.

sunday (or, it's starting to get cold)

I woke up early from dreams of apocalypse (this time hurricanes and floods) to the sound of screaming airplanes. I think it might have been because of the rain, or different flight paths, or the relative quiet of early morning, but the normal sound of commercial aircraft seemed really loud.

Not that it kept me awake. I promptly fell back asleep for a long time, managing to wake up just in time for the McLaughlin Group. The host has been surprisingly pro-Kerry. Whether I had missed this in the past remains unclear.

The Seattle weather had officially turned to cold and grey; perfect weather for my lack of motivation, the Neva Dinova/Bright Eyes split, and a trip downtown for a haircut bundled up with a scarf. Later, I went to Victrola, thinking that some caffeine could dissipate the cloud of indifference. This was a partial success and I caught up with a bit of work-related reading and dug in to the Stephen Elliott book and the new McSweeney's.

All in all, a pretty good weekend.

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