Jan. 30th, 2006

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Got a really heavy letter from my dad in some crazy-ass format, so I got the pleasure of reading it in garbled simpletext.

And yes, he brought in both Rilke and Heidegger.
And you wonder where I get it from.

My "let me explain my whole embodiment to you and why that demands testosterone" letter to them is now at a solid 9-page single-spaced essay length. At first I figured I'd write it out by hand for that personal touch, but now I'm thinking better of it. Smearing ink with my left-handed palm across an already illegible scrawl might make an already difficult reading even more difficult.

Ireland is going well.
But if one more person on this fucking island tells me I look like Hilary Swank, I'm gonna boot on their shoes.

I'm wicked hungry. Maybe I'll make spanikopita. But then I'll have to wait.

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