It was a pretty good day. I got a couple of more orders... including one from Brock Webster (the hung hottie from MID-SUMMER DREAMS who fucked Scott Bradley).

Philip and I went around to almost every major book store on the east bank to put Herbalife fliers in a book written by a doctor associated with Herbalife. While doing that we swung by and visited Skitz and gave him his xmas gift. I can't believe we haven't seen him in such a long time! Skitz gave me a book called AWAKENING INTUITION by Mona Lisa Shulz, M.D., Ph.D.

The one sad part of yesterday occurred while we were going to the book store in Lakeside Mall (which turns out to have been turned into a clothing store since we last went there). As we walked through the corridors of the shopping center, there were numerous booths selling crystal dishes and other collectible antiques. I saw some American Fostoria, which is my mother's pattern. Whenever I see a piece I can afford, I buy it for her. Of course, I couldn't afford to by any piece today, not even a small candy dish. But I noticed that the round cake plate was selling for $245 and the square cake plate was selling for $295! I was amazed and I knew my mom would be, too... I had to call her to tell her this. So when I told her about how much her crystal was selling for she sounded amazed, as I was... but then she told me not to buy her anymore Fostoria... because several months ago, before Uncle Blair died in jail, mama had to sell her huge collection of American Fostoria crystal because she needed the money.

She didn't sound sad about it. She isn't a very material person. And I tried to sound very accepting of it... and, in a way, I was totally Buddhist about it. The crystal collection, which she had been enjoying since before I was born, served a purpose... and now, it has served another purpose. But the child in me was so saddened. My mother has few nice things. I don't even consider a crystal collection to be that "nice" but it was something she loved, she had collected for over 40 years... she would serve food and punch and candy in this crystal for every holiday... and whenever a neighbor or friend had a wedding or event, she would gladly lend out the entire collection so others could enjoy it. Dammit, after all my mother has suffered and lost... why can't see have a few pretty things?

I know it sounds superficial, but it's not even so much about the crystal as it is about what the crystal represents... and the many years of slow devotion. Yes, she has her health (shaky as it is) yes she has lots of love. I just really wish she had her American Fostoria. And on the other hand, since she really needs money, I was mad that she only got $10 in a St. Francisville yard sale for a piece that would fetch $295 in the halls of a city mall. It's SO fuckin' unfair. This deeply saddened me, but I didn't let it get me down.

The skies seemed to share my woe. The skies poured down heavy tears. At one point, while Philip had run into the grocery store to fetch some dinner fixin's, I sat in the truck, reading that book Skitz gave me (Deckard would love it, I'll have to send it to him in New Zealand when I'm done) and during one particularly strong torrent I looked up and saw the oddest thing. About two dozen shopping carts were being pushed by the rain, all going in the same direction across the parking lot asphault... like a herd of migrating buffalo. And then another heard of 18 or so ran by... it was surreal.

Philip made zesty cole slaw and broiled burgers for dinner. Cameron and Nathan came by to eat with us...and we watched RAISING ARIZONA on video. Again, I nearly cried at the end.