Saturday 7 November 1998

Another peaceful quiet day draws to its end. A little bit of snow has come down today, but not so much as to make the world white outside. My stomach was a bit upset from yesterday, so no big feast meals today. Spent some time watching SoyaRatCam today. Debs boyfriend has finally moved in, and they seem to get along well enough... (Of course, this must be a striking blow for the unknown number of emotionally malnourished boys who regard her as their virtual girlfriend. She has a section of her website devoted to "Moron Mail", and I'm sure it could continue to grow if she had the time.)
Talked with my parents on the phone (this has happened several times each year lately) and my mother told me she had found a notebook she suspected was a diary of mine from my childhood. She may even send it to me. I am somewhat curious, though my expectations are hardly high. I seem to remember clearly that I was grossly stupid as a child (not that this is uncommon in any way, the other boys at school were generally worse), so the literary value may be limited at best. But perhaps it could fill in some of the dark holes that constitute most of my childhood. Sometimes I almost worry over the fact that I could probably not fill one single day with the total of my childhood memories. And nearly all of what is, consists of small cuts of time alone in the nature, usually near a stream, occasionally in the woods and mountains. Oh well.