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A mellowing and meandering trip through this American life. Follow the adventures of Jan, Jack, and Patrick as they take you on a whirlwind trip through Washington, DC's seedy underbelly of cut-rate poolhalls, thrift stores, and temp agencies.

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Sunday, April 18, 2004

hi. It is heavenly here in Tuscon. Just lovely. We drove into town with a gushgiting radiator, and there was one very excited boy in the car who could not wait to see his GIRL -- Jack. We had big gran daddy maragritas. we ate small cheap tacos. we met the very nice smart micah, his estranging girlfriend from siberia (ANYA) a boring half-asian named ? and of course hillary at Taco Brun.
Yesterday we did a little homer derby (which I won). this was a great park bec. it had short fences and slamming the homer out of the park was the thing to do. we were all great though, victory aside. then we saw real baseball at ARIZONA UNIVERSITY BASEBALL STADIUM. I call the texas pan am U 1b a no legs stick legs, and I got into his head. I told the catcher he had no butt. It felt good, and its part of the game.
I wonder if I would have hecdkled so much if I hadn't won. one of the great mysteries.
Oh! but here is my wisdom that turned crystal and solid and sure. I saw its veins in the recent past, but now I know its true: you don't have to wonder if you are doing well among people in whatever field (be it if you are the pope, goodlooking, or trying to be a great dart thrower); you'll know because people will be touching you. it will be a little gross I think, but you'll see a strange clawing needing desire to touch you from the people standing around. When they are touching you -- patting your back, shaking your hand impertinently -- you are doing well.

jan

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