I was too tired to finish the short story I was reading last night, so I put the magazine down with two pages to go, and now I'm dying to know how it ends, but I left the magazine lying on the floor next to my nightstand, on top of my log. I keep a log of all the things I do each day. Not all everything, just things of note, like, if I went for a hike with someone, or met someone for a drink, or if I was sick or started my period. Or, in the case of last night, I wrote two words for my entry: Watched Willard. When I look back on this day in the future, my log will serve to tell me two things: I watched Willard and was too cranky to be bothered to fill in any other details.

The best part of Willard was definitely the Crispin Hellion Glover cover of Ben. Crispin Glover always makes me think of that movie The River's Edge with CG and a young and pretty Keanu Reeves. The actual events that the movie was based on took place in a suburb of my home town. In fact, the field that the murder took place in was the same field we used to drive to at night to stare at the stars and smoke too many cigarettes. The movie was banned from the theaters in that particular suburb which meant that in order to see it we had to drive to another city.

I now have to call Brigham's because I convinced the big boss man that we need to have an ice cream social on Friday.