It's a rainy, bleary-eyed day in Eugene, Oregon.

I went out to get coffee an hour or so ago, mostly because I needed to be forced out of the house. I'm descending into one of my depressive states (or have been in one all week, actually) and movement is essential to combating it.

Anyway, I saw the most amazing thing (and it's probably not really all that amazing)-- my trip back from Evil Coffee Emporium is across two large asphalt parking lots. It had just rained mightily and the sun came out for a bit, and all of a sudden, all at once, steam rose copiously from the blacktop. All around me, for about an eighth of a mile, was steam, and flowers here and there, poking up through cracks in the ground. I thought Whitesnake or some other smoke-machine using band was setting up somewhere nearby. But nope. Just steam. And flowers.

And my coffee was not so good today. My girlfriend's neighbor made it, and now I think he lacks skills. And skillz. He lacks mad coffee skillz. Yo.

But I drank the coffee anyway.

Two encouraging emails today from that saint of a man Joe Massey. Thank you, Joe.

And finally, what I really sat down to write:

During this dreary weekend, a weekend I spent mostly paralyzed by my own petty anxieties and fears, I have been kept alive by Andrew Mister's beautiful sad poems, filled with strange weather, and a loneliness that makes me feel a little less lonely.

Thank you, Andy. Thank you.