Tuesday, February 18, 2003
I went to Radio Shack a few weeks ago and bought an intercom system for the house, because this is the kind of tall old house where it's a long way from the attic (where I'm typing this) to the basement library (where Lorraine does her e-mail), and sometimes you just want to push a button and say "your food's ready". The intercom just went beep, and Lorraine's voice sang, in a rather wobbly fashion, "Zippedy doo dah, zippedy-ay, my band is playing First Avenue on Saint Patrick's Day!" Then there were whoops from somewhere deep in the bowels of the house, and then a pounding of steps and Lorraine ran in, all teary-eyed and joyous, said "It's the twentieth Saint Patrick's Day Boiled in Lead gig and Neil my band is playing!" and then shot out again, probably to let her band know the news.

I checked the First Avenue website, and it's Monday the 17th, St Patrick's Day.

And fresh out of the FAQbox this morning, something that cheered me up...

This was meant to get to you sooner, but the technodemons had it out for this site I see.

I'm sorry, this is not a question really. Just a message, which is what this box is labelled for anyways, "message". Anyhoo....

When I read this in your journal;
"(I just made that up. I imagine it would go something like: "Oh, the preciouss, we takes it our handssses and we rubs it and touchess it,, Smeagol musst not touch the preciousss, the master said only he can touch the precioussss.... bad masster, he doess not know the precious like we does, no, gollum, and we wants it, we wants it hard in our handses, yesss..." etc etc)"

I nearly spit coffee out my nose. I'm partly sickened and partly amused with the fact I have a new way to torture my boyfriend. You see, and this most likely does not speak too highly of me, I can do a few impressions, and Gollum is one of them. I attribute the creepiness to my theatre training and the fact that I have a voice lower than Lauren Bacall's. But I'm forbidden to do my impression of Gollum and rarely risk the punishment, which is something akin to sleeping on the couch and not getting sex. You'd think I could convince my boyfriend otherwise with a come hither look and something enchanting from my wardrobe to let me come back to bed, but he really despises Gollum. Do you realize how tempting this little passage you've written will be to me now? How much I want to creep up behind my boyfriend and start reciting this?

The couch doesn't look so bad now that I think about it.

Or maybe I'll hold out for you and Warren to end up in the same bar so I can do my impression there.

Oh, one last thing, damn you for not going to Pittsburgh Comicon! I don't really damn you, just disappointed. I had a message from Mayana for you.

Putting the "Sin" in Sincerely,

I'll consider myself properly damned. Good luck, and you have a fun site.

Hello, Neil. I was just looking around Amazon and found this book, called Neil Gaiman's The Sandman and Joseph Campbell: In Search of the Modern Myth by Stephen Rauch. I was wondering if you could tell your adoring fans anything about this book, i.e. is it worth reading?

It's Stephen Rauch's thesis on Sandman. And beyond that (racks memory, feels embarrassed) I don't know. (I've probably read it at some point, and probably enjoyed it, but theses on Sandman tend to blur into each other in my head, becoming an amorphous sort of uber-thesis. Sorry Stephen...)