My Virginia Woolf-obsessed college professor was in my backyard. Incidentally, her name was actually Mrs. Dalloway. And she was about to die.

But not before cooing some reassurances to me about how beautiful & pleasant & necessary death is.

Then Mrs. Dalloway set to making her final arrangements, which included the Geico gecko who was to be her guide and companion on her journey to the underworld. She went to the gate in the side yard where an invisible gondola was moored. She got in and disintegrated.

Then her scrawny dog ran into my house where I was now located. My mother said it was fitting the dog should die, that it would prove its loyalty to Mrs. Dalloway by doing so. We watched the dog suffer.

went to the inauguration. the train rolls into pioneer square because the ceremony is actually in seattle, not dc.

actually on stage with obama who begins eating a chili dog during his speech because he wants to keep the atmosphere 'chill' with the people. i try to ask people if they thought that was acceptable after the speech, but no one seemed to care.

on my way back, after visiting my sister's college dorm room, got attacked by an elephant that happened to be wandering around a suburban neighborhood. i tried to dodge it, but it wasn't working, so i ran across the street where a white guy was watering his dirt.

i screamed as i approached, & he happened to have a rifle on hand & shot the elephant for me. i hid in his house while the carcass was removed & the street hosed off. his wife was jealous of me.