I read a book about how to attract people to your blog. Headlines that belittle and offend them was hint #3.

Quite a fucking lot is going on lately, but there’s a fair amount I can’t write about openly because of pending uh … man, I can’t even describe it adequately without risking someone finding it and complicating matters by spreading it around. That sounds really bad, probably. Nothing major, everyone in the inner circle is healthy, reasonably happy (or reasonably unhappy, for the Freudians in the audience), no one’s getting married, divorced, killed (yet) or anything “status changing.” Email me if you’re really interested, or call, I’m trying to be better about answering the phone. I know where it is right now, for instance.

Couple more cryptic notes on the off chance that those they’re intended for check in (very fucking doubtful).

J., I owe you many calls back, I hope you’re not taking it personally, I’m just flaky on a level that adderall can’t seem to touch. I’ve got a huge collection of CDs to send you, you come up in conversation almost daily, all the usual much love shit.

K., sorry to hear about your loss. I never know if it’s best to call with belated condolences or if it’s just opening fresh wounds, so I tend not to mention it when I find out later. I know it was a long struggle, and I know how close you were, and I’m just … so sorry.

T., how’s the kid? I owe you email, I have video of some really interesting lectures to send you, I instantly thought of you, your work, and your new mom status when I saw these.

L., I really owe you a call, and we really need to clear time to hang out and just chat. Every time I think “I should be writing” I hear you berating me for not doing it on any of the numerous occasions you’ve done it, and I’m grateful to you for that.

I’m forgetting people and leaving some out because a) as is usual on a Friday, I should have been in bed several hours ago and b) I really don’t think too many people read this.

General thought of the day. The market changed complexion four weeks ago when the Sunday market split—the old location opened, and most of the “old location” regulars went back there, leaving the “new location” regulars and people who think it’s the better geographical choice (and really, is just fucking is) behind. There are a lot of other issues involved in the market, which I won’t go into, but just the change, not seeing some of the same people every Sunday—and these are years-long relationships at this point—has changed the entire “feel” of both days. And I suppose it’s inevitable, but a certain amount of eye-opening has occured, and it’s just all a bit sad. Both days are less enjoyable now. Maybe it’s just the weather, but we’ve discussed it and we feel a palpable “and that was the end of a golden age” sort of moment. Though golden age is stretching it—more like brass.

We’ll be at the annual street fair down the block tomorrow, by the way—in what looks to be constant rain all day. We are driven more and more toward brick-and-mortar.