Last night we watched 120 minutes before bed. Can I use that as my excuse? Or my nerves before first day back at work in seven months? Or having to drive in Phoenix?

Dramarama was on (a terrible song), as was Flock of Seagulls and the Pixies and Morrissey and R.E.M. and I thought about what Vixen said during March Shredness: the radio DJs would only play one woman fronted band an hour. We watched 120 minutes for an hour and I don’t recall any women who weren’t props or backdrop.

Also, the usual family drama–it only took four days. I am again reminded that this family was a new equation that I was never a part of–I’m the remainder left over after some messy division, carried over.

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