18 January 2005 (yesterday) (tomorrow)

As I was trying to find a piece of footage of two dogs lounging in a kitchen, the phone rang: it was Guin.  She told me she was mailing me a mix C.D.  I asked her if she wanted my mailing address and she said Not Right Now.  (I assumed this was because she was too stoned.)  As she spoke, she sat on her floor and divided her vinyl collection into categories.