I picked up a roll of film tonight. I'd kind of forgotten what was on it. I mean, I remembered some stuff, but other stuff ... like, ok, there was a picture of lurpy, and that set off a bizarre little chain reaction. Made me curious to see what he was up to, and then I saw this, which needless to say, pissed me off.

Then there were pictures of that crazy pseudo-Thanksgiving sham of a travesty that my Aunt Joanne had ... and pictures of the person that I saw the same day as took the picture of lurpy ...

I'd wanted to pick up the roll of film because I knew there were pictures from the Daffodil Collective's Halloween party on there, and there were. I knew there was one of St. Peezy, and I'd wanted to give it to him ... I was thinking about it this afternoon, which is part of why I knew I'd run into him (the other reason that I knew I'd run into him was that Catherine and Mark and I had been talking about him last night, and Chubbs too).

And then, as I was walking out of the Giant Eagle, I realized that I was muttering to myself. I kept saying "It doesn't matter ..." over and over again like it was some sort of mantra. When I got into my car I realized that it does matter (of course), otherwise I wouldn't have been trying so hard to convince myself that it didn't.

"Instant Karma's gonna get you ..."