Thank god for Katie. The dog got let outside a bunch of extra times yesterday so that I could sneak a cig. My lungs and brain feel so strange denied their sweet, tarry nectar. Did I mention that my dad died of lung cancer? I am one addicted snake.

Mom had her first sushi last night and enjoyed everything but the mackerel.

She was also astounded by the racial make-up of the population here. She said she felt like she was in a foreign country after a few trips on the train. "I'm the minority, and there's no bones about it," she says to me in an incredulous voice. She wasn't scared or freaked, just completely not used to it.

Where she lives there's probably a five percent "minority" (read black/Hispanic or Asian) population, if that. The last time she rode the train in Atlanta was during the 1996 Olympics, and the trains were full of white people. On this visit, it was just an average work day.

The museum was great. The photos beautiful. I particularly liked the Richard Avedons, the Mapplethorpe flowers, and the Adres Serranos. I didn't think I'd like Serrano, but his work is vividly beautiful. Okay, I didn't like the really abstract blood and milk ones. But the others were great. I'd love to see Elton's house with the whole collection hanging. Even the framing is flawless.

The wooden floors at the museum groan constantly under the weight of people walking through and shifting their feet, sounding like huge, thick ropes straining under a heavy burden.

I also gave blood this morning. The first time in about 15 years. Not too bad. And when the guy getting his blood drained next too me had blood pool up on his arm around the needle, I was able to watch without getting queasy. The guy who stuck me did a really good job with nary a drop spilled.

I did get lightheaded about 20 minutes after I gave, though. I had just ridden the elevator up to the office and was talking to the receptionist. My head started getting all tingly and I had to sit down and act normal while she blathered on about her strange hemoglobin and why she can't give blood.

Eventually I felt okay to get up.

Train vignette: I'm sitting in the last car on the train headed back home from my chiropractor's neighborhood. There are two white guys standing in the back of the car with luggage, headed for the airport, I assume. They're leaning close to the emergency intercom button.

At first I think they're speaking German, but very softly. They furtively look at me. I smile ('cause one of them is kind of cute). And then they continue to talk to each other. I start to think they're making fun of me.

German guy 1: Der Deutchland ick zer blitzenscnabble.

German guy 2: Didzouch zee der freulein dyken. Probenlichen hung liken equinefrichtenhostle.

Train conductor on intercom: Hello! Did you need to speak to the train operator?

German guy 1: Ichblah derblah wolksvagonblah.

Train conductor on intercom: I'm sorry sir but I can't understand a word you're saying! Could you please move to another intercom.

I start laughing.

They just kept talking. The security guy in the little compartment in the back of the car comes out, pushes the button and yells.

Security guy: He hit the button by accident!

Train conductor on intercom: I can't hear you! Do you need assistance?

Security guy: IT'S OKAY. HE HIT THE BUTTON BY ACCIDENT.

German guys aren't even noticing that anything is going on around them. Then it sounded more like they were speaking Spanish.

Maybe more later, but for now I need to get some dinner.

Moving on - 12:11 p.m. , 2007-08-14

Where the hell have I been? - 12:10 p.m. , 2007-02-19

Holy shit! - 2:24 p.m. , 2006-01-11

Stuffing recipe - 6:17 p.m. , 2005-12-13

Good Life Update - 10:22 a.m. , 2005-11-11