less is more

Recently I keep hearing sleeping less is good for you. If that's ture I might be among the healthiest.

My car, company-owned, has put me through iron tests of patience. Mechanical failures, flat, dead battery, worn-out tires and gears, funny smell and noises, and countless little mishaps. I'm just glad being in an area this rural the problems are much more approachable. Common sense might indicate otherwise, but folks around here help me out a great deal.

I started swiftly jogging down thoughts that come to mind when I am occupied with something else. I hope it helps me remember more of the few original ideas that often die a premature death.

March 2006 marks the beginning of a fourth year in Iraq and myself in Japan. The day the U.S. declared a full blown war was a day I remember with disturbing clarity being in a Bensonhurst laundromat one last time dragging damp clothes from the dryer complaining how they had gotten more expensive and at the same time hitting on that East European chick who worked there part-time. Miraculously we still keep loosely in touch but her no longer there and me no longer articulate through, thigh, and three with that on again off again Brooklyn accent. Maybe I never really had it down but my buddies from yesteryears in Kings seem to disagree. I loathe those streets as much as they're missed, with intensity.