Quartermass & The Pit

Another unsuccessful afternoon of house hunting. Even though the market has finally flattened out and we stand a very real chance to winning a bid, we only had one house to look at today, and as nice as it was it's in this neighborhood that we keep coming back to that I just don't know about. The way the neighbors keep up, or rather, not keep up their properties concerns me. If and when I finally try to sell this place in the future I want it to be somewhere where the property values of the entire 'hood will increase, not decline, as it is obviously apparent in this one area.

Plus finances right now... ho boy. Things are looking grim. I need to check on the status of my loan before I even think of making another move. My standing could very well have... um, changed. In fact I can bet money on it. If I had the money to bet, that is.

And the Dallas Hack continues.

Yeah. Things could be better right now. A whole lot better.

But lunch today with my realtor Tom was nice, and Mike came to join us. Yes, the stripe down his head has grown back. And the sushi there was quite good.

I know I'm in no position to buy comfort items at the moment. But I couldn't resist a used copy of Once Upon A Time In America.


Utterly astonishing to look at. But I still can't buy into that ending. Talk about far-fetched. But there were several instances of true loveliness in this picture, especially during the flashback-to-childhood scenes, that are just too spellbinding not to own.

And yesterday while loafing around B&N waiting around for my Tussionex prescription I picked up a copy of Philip Roth's The Dying Animal.


I'm embarrassed to admit that I have never read any Roth, but a friend recommended this one to me as a sort of introduction (if not, perhaps, initiation?) into his style and prose. Reading always takes me out of my woes, no matter how bad they can escalate. And right now they're getting there. They are getting there.

That's it for this month's indulgence. I need every penny now. Every penny I can make for myself, however possible.

I can see this hole. And the hole just keeps getting bigger.

I see it close by. Out in the marsh, just over this side of the banks. Somewhere in the gray reeds I hear the vicious sounds of raccoons fighting. Or it could be foxes. I see them both often creeping in the night.

And the hole is expanding. It's heading this way.