Seeing Katherine again last night was quite a little coincidence, and it brought out some powerful feelings. It's weird with some people, especially with people of the same birth sign in my case--we just have this strange unbreakable connection, even if we have never met prior. Jim's friend Margaret asked me what my birthday was, and when I told her Nov. 28, she said, "No wonder I like you."

I'm talking about sychronicity here, and loneliness. I'm fucking lonely. My dreams were crazy last night. Fucking temperamental mexicans. They get so angry at you, then chase you around the grocery store. And all it took was for me to apologize to make things right again (I could barely do it I got so choked up with emotion and the cookies in my mouth). All the animosity, all the betrayal, all the trespasses were forgiven. Fucking temperamental mexicans.

depressed depressed depressed. I woke up singing that White Stripes song about Citizen Kane and now I want to see Citizen Kane. "I'll bet you five there's none alive who don't know his name." Is he referring to William Randolf Hearst in that line? I mean, Orsen Wells put the pet name that Hearst used for his girlfriend/wife's clitoris in the movie: Rosebud. What brashness!