Why O why, when there are so many books out there waiting for me to read, am I so keen to re-read my favorite book: One Hundred Years Of Solitude, by Gabriel García Márquez? I know I've read this book at least five times before. Is it because taking the Spanish class has reminded me that I would like to someday read it in its original Spanish (Cien Años de Soledad) - which I know will be much more beautiful. Or is it because I'm still not exactly sure what the book is about? My own copy is in storage somewhere, so yesterday, I borrowed a copy from the UW undergraduate library. (I have some nice job benefits.)

Then, this morning, I got an email from The Seattle Public Library informing me that the copy of Casino Royale, Ian Fleming's first "James Bond" novel, which I had placed on hold, had come in.

I remember when I was a child, on road trips with my family, my dad would read us sections of James Bond novels to pass the time. I've read Chitty Chitty Bang Bang a long, long time ago, but this will be my first time reading a Bond novel.

My coffee consumption has dopped off to almost nothing. I don't know when it started, I don't know what it means, and I don't know why it alarms me. This morning, when I arrived at work, I opted for a bottle of orange juice instead of a latte. Once upon a time, I'd buy lattes almost every weekday - sometimes I'd buy one in the morning, and one in the afternoon. It's been a month - maybe more - since I've had a latte. (That's probably a good thing, considering how expensive those things are.) Last night, I got an email from CoffeeAM, my favorite supplier. They're offering me free Sumatra Black Satin with my next offer. I've been out of coffee at home for two days, and I'd ordinarily jump at that offer. Maybe I'll put in an order this weekend.

It's an interesting dilemma. How should I treat mistypings and misspellings in this blog? Is it tampering with history to change a past entry? This blog seems to keep the original time and date of an entry, no matter how many times I go back to edit it. Should I approach this blog with a Kerouacian attitude and preserve each keystroke as is? Is it good wabi-sabi to leave in the imperfections? Should I maybe place a limit on either time or severity if I decide to fix an entry?

The squirrels are back! There was one in the neighborhood, and lots & lots on squirrels on campus. About half the campus squirrels seemed to have already found breakfast, and ignored my offer for peanuts. As I walked across campus this morning, I had the song "Under The Milky Way Tonight" stuck in my head. I was thinking it had been performed by Echo & The Bunnymen. But, after an internet search, I was reminded that it was The Church.

This is one time I actually have a good idea for why that song was in my head. I've been thinking about taking another go at the story about the girl I dated in 1990, and the lines from the song - "I wish I knew what you were looking for / I might have known what you would find" - seemed to fit right in.

Last night, the Spanish instructor suggested we buy a Spanish-English dictionary. She told us that there are two things to look for in a good dictionary: there are two definitions for "tortilla," and c and ch are listed are two separate letters. The dictionary I picked up, used, for five dollars at Twice Sold Tales meets both requirements.

Where are the squirrels? I haven't seen one all week - not the cautious neighborhood squirrels nor the aggressive campus squirrels. It's a nice warm July week. Squirrels should be out running errands, not hiding in trees.

The longest I have kept to a New Year's resolution was the one I made in (my goodness, when was it? '92? '93? '91?) - to become vegetarian, and I still consider myself one today. For 2003, I promised to start learning a foreign language. (Foreign to my native English, anyway.) My first choice was French, but then I decided Spanish was more practical in this part of the world. Besides, I took some Spanish in college. Tonight was the first of 4 two-hour Beginning Spanish classes I enrolled in from UW's Experimental College. I won't be fluent in August, but it'll be a start. Yo vivo, el vive, ella vive, Usted vive, nosotros vivimos, ellos vivien, ellas viven, y Ustedes viven.

ocho julio, dos mil tres

(Written in a spiral notebook on the bus ride home.)
I heard The German Girl speak today, and it was a bit of a disappointment. I see this woman twice on a typical weekday. I walk past her office on my way to lunch in my preferred cafeteria. Then I see her again at the end of the day, as she waits for her bus at the same stop that I do. I know nothing about her, aside from where she works and how she gets home. I didn't actually think she's German. She just looks European, with her angular face and short, severe (almost "boyish") hairstyle. I know that I am not the only person who makes up names and personalities for familiar strangers on the bus. Anyway, some guy walked past the bus stop, and stopped briefly to chat with The German Girl. Of course, I knew, somehow, she wouldn't have a deep, German accent, but it was still shocking to overhear a falsetto, All-American-Girl answer the passerby.

The Writers' Group gave my piece polite, but lackluster, reviews. But I knew, even before church yesterday, that I felt it wasn't very good. Then Blanche made a comment that "Everybody wants to be a writer these days. It's tough out there." That made for a gloomy morning for me.

Then my e-mail program decided not to work yesterday afternoon - just like that. I hadn't changed any settings yesterday morning, we hadn't downloaded any programs, just one session Netscape Mail is working, the next session, it crashes on start-up. (I hate Microsoft Windows.) Then Phillip, Lynn, and I went to "Terminator 3: Rise Of The Machines," and I thought it was awful, except for the ending. Even after re-installing Netscape and doing scandisks and defrags, e-mail still won't work. That made for a gloomy evening.

Now I have to go back to work after a four-day weekend. I am depressed.