It rained today/night, and the streets are gleaming. The cloud cover kept the temperatures at an agreeable level.

At the museum, with nothing much to do, I found myself examining my pocket change under a microscope. Old Honest Abe appeared to be under attack from some sort of giant amoeba. He also sported scars from past battles - perhaps from tussling with other common items found in one's pockets (string or nothing?). I think I'm going to start washing my hands more often. I'm appalled at the state of our coins. Then I got to realizing that some of the coins in front of me had been on Earth longer than I have. It makes me think about all of the hands they've passed through, and all of the hands yet to come. There's a story in there somewhere...

cds I listened to while getting slightly wet: High Tide "Sea Shanties/High Tide", Shirley Collins "Within Sound" disc two, Motorhead "Bastards" (...and yet it has a song on it that brings tears to my eyes...), Ratos De Porao "Carniceria Tropical", and Neurosis "Souls at Zero"

now: In Gowan Ring "Hazel Steps through a Weathered Home" (one of 2002's best)