A very slow correspondence

A letter to a friend that I have been writing for a very long time. A letter that grew too big for its britches (somewhat like its author). A letter that just oozes on and on rather than coming to end like a dignified letter would.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Fancy hotel

Today is Liz's 33rd birthday. Here is my monkey, Enchephalitis, celebrating while enjoying a cup of coffee and lounging in our fancy hotel room in St. Louis. I ask you, is there a more spoiled monkey anywhere? He gets to hang out drinking coffee -- later, he's going to go to the pool to work on his tan -- whereas I have to do a presentation on chronic homelessness to a conference of generally uninterested people.

(He is named Encephalitis "because he has a big head!" A gift from my friend Melissa, I was only permitted to keep him on the condition that I did not change his name.)

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