I love getting spam emails. The bottom paragraph sometimes has a string of unrelated words that might once have been part of a story... who knows. But I think it's great:


Subject line: very proud and disdainful, an I really b
children to their lessons, which were happily always supposed to begin
later on a Monday than on any other day of the week. The study door

Subject line: ugmy pham vfahv fsfw ieha
hab gmy positphamion
vfahvthe fsfpart
you xieh by kkofo
youubpme xegfrom tvjbtart.
Illbeqvoa beqdqfore ynrov.
belhqha pounceugmpony.
thisrphceremony
muv filahvlsmy fsf.
a punxiehch toy vokkofolunteer kubpnee.
is xegalu wavjbnt tohqvoaear
aqdqnd aynrovyou wlhqhasee.

Subject line: birthday girl... -23-

ftexploring 0k ic singly Tec superconductivitystacksiopSUST
The change t the structure f the syllabus has allwed the structure f the examinatin t be simplified. There are fur sectins t the examinatin, crrespnding t the fur parts f the HSC curse. All students will cmplete the cre questins in Sectin I, and students will answer questins relating t the ptins they studied in Sectins II, III, and IV. Each sectin f the examinatin is wrth 25 marks.
The lectures follow chronological and thematic considerations so that it will be easier for the students. The chronology will serve as Adriane s clew as we go deeper in the analysis. We will start at the end of the 19th century as it is the crucial time of changes. This is an arbitrary choice and others could legitimately make some other choices. Within 13 weeks we will put the emphasis on studying the 20th century. It is already part of history and rich enough for our class. Another advantage of concentrating on this period of time is that there are some people still alive, so we will rely on oral history, meaning accounts of people who went through the events we study in class.
Russian environmental legislation consists of numerous federal and regional regulations which often contradict one another and cannot be

Subject line: Become VVIP

reformist officer Genmyname is a Ytion of Pakistan into a stable nonthreatening
in i u ion andideal mu includeallof he ubjec ma erelemen iden ifiedin he
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(These last 3 are my favorites)

Subject line: Attentionn!

Of what had taken place on the acropolis at sunset, which
they were all humorously cognizant. Myriad an accident.
gertrud is slightly more affected. Rung. Leyden. And you,
too, would be a soldier, when i became yours. If these conditions
are too.

Subject line: worlld crisis

Along with the bhojas and andhakas and kukuras became manifest
that, in the long run, the colonel any emergency. She no
longer felt any fears for bhishma, the son of santanu, then,
o king, proceeded ourselves on the offchance of selling.
rainey.

Subject line: Do you love?

Luxury of not asking why, hugh dear, what do you customs.
during my recent christmas sojourn at was so good in the
restoration of his sight, to she has not yet recovered her
equanimity on the from the facts in a parallel case. I know
human.

Darn

New favorite tights from J.Crew, got a run today, second time wearing them. Maybe that's why they were marked down to $2.99. What a bummer.

Today, Thursday seems incredibly depressing. The thought of slugging through the rest of the day, plus another one seems too daunting. This week has been a slow one, laden with skipped lunches and snipey bickering, tired nights and even sleepier mornings. I'm jealous of certain people that get to take days off when they get tired, and I'm tired of the endless progression of days. I deeply resent those brilliant people who seem to do everything effortlessly, whose blogs or studios or lives, even, are pristine spreads of proliferation and beauty or wit. My work, when I make it, speaks of struggle; it's hardly a testament of proliferative creation. And though I want to make beautiful things, I usually end up making dinner instead.

Workplace inspirations

Sometimes even work can spark my attention, like this mysterious fax we recieved today, or the unexpected inside of an envelope.

(it reads: May 18 10 06:08p p. 2 ,
and at the bottom is that strange rear-view mirror shape. I am really curious about how this happened.)





Because sometimes the small things are the most delightful.

Adulthood isn't all it's cracked up to be

Certain people have become such good writers that I am less and less inclined to share my daily musings, and more inclined, instead, to revert to childhood and create a montage of myself devouring my strawberry sweater. But such is life.

Mornings

These days I've been rising at an unheard of 7:30, a full hour and a half before I have to be at work. My parents, if they read this, would scoff. Usually I loathe waking up, be it 7:30 or 10 in the morning, but lately it's felt like a nice change of pace. If I'm lucky, the husband who leaves for work earlier than I will have left me coffee, waiting kindly in a thermos. I water my three plants that sit on a kitchen windowsill, drink the coffee leisurely, maybe read a little poetry. Usually ignore the cat.

This morning I was sitting on the couch in a generous pool of sunlight, coffee in hand, considering reading some Robert Bly; meow-meister curled up beside me, unusually silent and enjoying the sun. I absently put my hand on her still-shorn stomach, and must have nudged her tail on the way, because she proceeded to attack it like a foreign object she had never seen before.

So far that's been the highlight of my day.

GOOD

The Envoy
by Jane Hirshfield

One day in that room, a small rat.
Two days later, a snake.

Who, seeing me enter,
whipped the long stripe of his
body under the bed,
then curled like a docile house-pet.

I don't know how either came or left.
Later, the flashlight found nothing.

For a year I watched
as something--terror? happiness? grief?--
entered and then left my body.

Not knowing how it came in.
Not knowing how it went out.

It hung where words could not reach it.
It slept where light could not go.
Its scent was neither snake nor rat,
neither sensualist nor ascetic.

There are openings in our lives
of which we know nothing.

Through them
the belled herds travel at will,
long-legged and thirsty, covered with foreign dust.

On feeling more grown up than ever before

After a what felt like much longer than a week of moving, we succeeded in hauling our multitudinous piles of junk four miles down the road, and have happily settled in what seems like a different land altogether: Fullerton. The last box has been unpacked, and though there are still little piles of homeless objects clustered around the new terrain, the to-do list is quickly dwindling. It feels good to live in a place where groceries or an evening drink are only a walk away down our lovely tree lined street.

Our house is almost 90 years old. It's part of a 3-unit building, but we have our own mailbox and the address is delightfully sans-apartment-number. There is no dishwasher or garbage disposal; when you want to go outside you can choose between three doors (living room, kitchen or bedroom).

We also have our own garage, a tiny little one-car affair that my thoughtful husband voluntarily turned into a studio space for me. Carpet and all. For the first time in a year I have an area to spread my mysteriously inspiring odds and ends, a place that is soley for creating -- or just siting and thinking, which is sometimes just as important. Last night I slipped out there for a couple of hours that disappeared almost instantly, and I feel more refreshed than I have in a long time.