FTITCTAJ

I have an embarrassing habit; I collect business cards. My desk drawer is awash with the things, many of them years out of date. I have been known to press a card into service as a bookmark from time to time, but I really don't think there are this many more books in my future.

I know, I should just throw them out, but -- it's silly, yes -- some of them -- OK, quite a few of them -- carry emotional baggage.

The admittance ticket to Lisa Snellings' Dark Caravan, for instance. Can't part with that. Gary A. Lippincott's card is just too pretty to throw away; Eiji Yokoyama's too funny. Hunan Legends has sadly gone out of business, but the card reminds me of the many fine and fun dinners we shared there. Business cards of managers and PR people for bookstores that have since evaporated or reorganized staff. Or both. Hard choice there. Bob's Bank of the Caribbean -- I have no idea why I have this card, but surely I shouldn't part with something so surreal? Certainly I can't possibly part with the "Get out of Hell Free" card; that's going to come in very handy some day.

Two expired driver's licenses for Steve; a run of our own business cards from ...oh, my. Nineteen-eighty through now, including the official card for us-as-Circular Logic BBS. A couple of execdir cards -- surely I can part with them?

And, of course, the card for the FTITCTAJ Piping Society. Can't possibly get rid of that one. A collector's item, and remembering the story attached to it always makes me smile.

I dunno. Maybe there's room for a business card museum? Yeah, that's the ticket.

Zoooooom

Weekend? We had a weekend?

Let's see...

The Nameless Story now weighs in at over 6,000 words.

The house has been vacuumed, the laundry (mostly) done.

Cats have been skritched (but not enough).

Rose bushes have been trimmed. Got quite a bit to do yet on the rose bushes, says the non-gardner, cutting out dead stuff. The good news is that colony bushes have been established and are putting forth leaves. Score! There was probably a better way to have accomplished this.

Tomorrow's schedule is pretty clear -- more writing and another session with the rose bush after the gym-thing.

Now, it's time to get off this infernal machine and rest my eyes. (And skritch Mozart, who is Abused -- Abused.)