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2002-12-02 - 9:39 p.m.

Ah, Thanksgiving, a time for...nah, I already did this one a couple years ago. On Thursday I had Thanksgiving dinner with Christine's family, marking the first time since I started college that I'd eaten with a family and not alone in the Commons on Thanksgiving day. I'd almost forgotten what that family atmosphere was like. It felt good to be back there again, and I'd like to thank Christine and her wonderful family for making me feel welcome by mocking me relentlessly throughout the day. It really was just like having my own uncles there.

What's the difference between Delta Burke and Delta Airlines?

About 20 pounds! HAW!!!!

I'd almost forgotten that joke, and it's not really relevant anymore, but it's still pretty funny if you know who Delta Burke is.

Jeff Hardy will rise again and become an exciting wrestler. This I promise you.

Auditions for next semester's play have come and gone. I was cast, then I violated my own cardinal rule, and turned the part down.

Why?

It was shitty. A bit part. And I didn't want a shitty bit part tobe my last role on a college stage.

Pops was a bit part, but it wasn't shitty, it was fun. This part just sucked.

So yeah, I'm acting like a diva. I don't care, though. I swallowed a lot of shit witha smile in the past 4 and a half years (well, I wasn't smiling here, but I didn't bitch out ken or bob ever. I did what I was told) and since I'm a senior and no longer have to fear any reprisal (one thing I've learned here about the way the theatre world works is that you only have to be nice to people who have the power to get back atyou in some capacity, or who have friends with that power. Everyone else you can just blow off) I figure I've got the right to say no to a role I find insulting to someone of my talents with my years of service to the department. besides, pops was a perfectly acceptable last role, kind of like John Elway retiring after winning one last superbowl, as opposed to Michael Jordan staying another year on a loser team. Sports metaphors rule...

But, Plugs-

Well, viola has nothing new, but I still feel loved byher entry, so that's all good.

Warren is listening to NPR and telling us all about his own Thanksgiving with his family (who sound like an interesting group of people to get stuck in an elevator with.) He's also thankful for his cats, which Ithink his cats made him write (because cats do that, like little women in fur coats.)

Okay, pointless misogny aside, I'm thankful for my cats, my family, my friends, and my girlfriend, but not necessarily in that order. I love you all.

And if you love me back, then I have a plea for you. My dicebag was stolen two weeks ago, taking away from me a beautiful collection of very lucky dice painstakingly assembled by your truly over the course of several years. I've purchased a servicable set, but my crown royal bag looks awfully say and empty nowadays. if you have any dice that are unlucky, or ugly, or simply don't match the rest of your dice, and you don't know what to do with them, why not donate them to the Help Ken Be A Full-Fledged Geek Again Foundation, headquartered at my room, and hindquartered...also in my room. See me for details.

To close this evenings festivities, I'd like to share with you all a poemthat I discovered a few weeks ago in my poetry class. now, normally,I abwhore poetry because poets are assholes (unless they write poetry I Like, in which case they're cool.) Several folk in the class said this poem reminds them of me anyway. it's good stuff.

The Way He'd Like It by Al Zolynas

Let me be the man who

Walking among tall trees,

is struck by lightning,

but is not killed;

Who somersaults in a cloud

fizzing with burnt hair

and lands on his feet, shoes smoking,

and shakes his head, saying,

"Jesus, that smarts!"

Let me be the man

hit by the last ash

of a dissolving meteorite.

Let it light on my head

like a benediction.

Let me be the man who walks

away from shipwrecks.

In a leveled city,

let me be the man found

17 days later under a former

insurance building sucking

air through the plumbing saying,

"I never really thought of giving up."

From all disasters let me rise

wholly. On my face,

let me have beautiful dueling scars.

Ken

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