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new journal.

St. Valentine is honored for continuing to marry lovers without the approval of the church. He was busted and beheaded on the 14th of February. Supposedly he wrote letters to his jailer’s daughter and his last one was cleverly signed, “love, your Valentine.” Years later, a king recognized this and sent the first love letter on this day. Centuries after that, someone got smart in the Americas and copied the cause for correspondence for their own coital curiosities, thus giving hallmark something positive to cash in on, rather than cards about, “Sorry I died today, try to remember me.” (Like some other pretty important card giving holidays.)

thank you for giving me a perfect idea for next year's v-day cards.

after going to sleep around 4 last night and waking up a few hours later, i've spent the day driving around the great state of ours, trying to track down town clerks for the information they seemed quite unwilling to give. then tried to talk to people about the good vermont doctor's concession speech, which everyone seemed quite unwilling to discuss. and i drove up and down the hilliest road possible which was, naturally, packed down with snow to the point of bearing striking resemblance to ice. it was like i was riding this winter wonderland roller coaster - only i was technically supposed to be steering the roller coaster. since the road was so narrow and the snowdrifts so high on either side, i pretty much let the car go where it wanted. fortunately it seemed to want to stay the course. good red.

i love long conversations with a small group of people in which each group member feels more intelligent by conversation's end. especially when a good amount of alcohol is involved.

really, how can you not feel brighter after brecht is brought into the conversation?