This is what I thought about as I joined you at the mall.

12/1/95 - Just a reminder: Get to Haynes Furniture this weekend; this is one of a mere 52 weekends this year that you'll have the chance to save big, big, big on the country's hottest furniture and accessories. Yeah, Right. It's not really cold this morning, at least not as cold as I expected. I like the word expectorate. I also like defenistrate. In fact, with good aim, you can defenistrate what you expectorate. What possible need does the world have for these two words? How much easier would it have been to simply say that you can spit out a window? I suppose an eloquent argument for elegance can be made, but what is elegance other than a fancy word for snootiness? Therefore I postulate the existence of behemoth vocabulary is simply a sly attempt by the bourgeois to maintain their illusional precipice above the proletariat. Hmmm.

12/4/95 - You know, some things are just too important to be skimpy about . Take work, for instance. I like my job so much that I came in today for half a day when my employer thinks I'm off. True, I am leaving very early on friday to watch the NCAA Soccer semi-finals, but I'm here today and I should be working instead of typing this journal. Therefore, this journal is small today. Hey, I'm sorry, but like I said, work is just too important to me to waste time by typing redundancies for a second or even third time. Yes, work is too important. Right? I know you all feel this way.

12/5/95 - Hello, and Good Day; Welcome to my own personal space to air whatever it is I feel like airing. Right now the whatever of which I just spoke is absolutely nothing. Yes, right. I have a complete void for a mind. Those of you that know me (and I have no reason to believe that anyone I haven't personally invited to read this is doing so) have long suspected this. But truth, contrary to its philosophical nature, is never self evident, at least I sure as heck haven't smacked right into a fact so clear that no doubts fogged my mind. Anyway, because of this, I can excuse you for not confronting me with your hunch. And look what I just did: I just put something (fog) into my mind. Oh, happy day. Well, I must do some work. Later, folks.

12/6/95 - The radio is pumping funk all over my office. It grooves; It moves and I am happy. I had a request for something exciting today. Bone chilling, edge of your seat exciting or thrilling, can't wipe the smile off your face exciting? This is actually tough. It's not tougher than having to figure out some electricity and magnetism problems for the take home test I was given my senior year in college; that was the toughest thing I've ever done. I think I missed every one. The professor gave me a C out of, I'm certain, the goodness of his heart. When I ever I face a completely daunting task, I think back to this one, truely impossible test and say, "Hey, that sucked, but I lived through it. Maybe, had I done better, I'd now be the CEO of some kickbutt computer company, making millions of dollars, driving fast cars, drinking expensive gin as I hang out with important, powerful and interesting people, but I got a C and my life is now dull." And somehow, that makes me feel better. (I think).

12/7/95 - News Flash. It's snowing. Right Here. Right now. I got to work before the University plowed my parking lot (but I must say the campus roads are more clear than the city roads on which I drove to work). Looking out the window right now I noticed the plow truck moving snow from all over our lot to right against my driver's side door. That sucks eggs (this one's for you Jenni) more than the Barnie Show. I hope the snow melts before evening because I need to drive to DC to catch, among other bands, the Dave Matthews Band (my hero) at the HFS-mas. That probably means very little to most folks (both in meaning and in empathy; "What is an HFS-mas and do I really give two winks that Lee will miss it?") but it means bunches to me. SOOO... I want everyone from here to DC outside now with hair driers making sure I 95 is clear up to exit 160 and 123 is clear into Fairfax city. Can you do that for me?

12/8/95 - Well, this is my last single digit day entry for the year. I'm on vacation monday, too. Today's entry is plageristical entitled "Scott and Lee's Dim Witted Adventure". Background: My friend Scott let me whine my way to the HFS-mas. We parked a long way from the Patriot Center on George Mason's campus but finally found the place via a circuitous route and many "How do you get to the Patriot Center from here"s directed at unlucky students. We saw the Toadies (too loud, no harmonies, but Scott noticed complex rhythms), the Goo Goo Dolls (too loud, unoriginal, but an occasional flash of unexpected pop wit), Garbage (interesting, loud, entertaining lead singer), Jule (could be Jewel, she was fun to watch, poppy, confident and funny) and THE DAVE MATTHEWS BAND. Dave gets words and periods to himself. He played a new song called Too Much (or was in Too Many) about us (fans, maybe?); It was ok, but it had a riff that sounded exactly like Tripping Billies. Then he played an older song he seems to be dusting off called Drive in, Drive Out. The ending of this was superb. Then came Satelite. Finally he played Ants Marching with a kick butt intro. Well, now for the adventure part. When Dave was done we split. Had we half a brain betwixt us we would have headed north toward my car (directions were clearly marked on the Patriot Center), but NOOOOO, we head toward the tall buildings because I remember coming from that direction (we took a strange route there to begin with). We must have walked for 20 minutes before stumbling upon a guy whose car had died. He got us to my car in exchange for a lift to his friend's house. The End.

12/12/95 - I'm back. Did you miss me? No one left me voice mail when I was gone. I hope that means I have bunches of new email. Well, I saw 3 soccer games this weekend. My toes were quite cold for 2 of them. I seem to be able to keep my body warm in extreme (at least extreme from Virginia) temperatures with the exception of my toes. After 30 minutes of exposure they drop off and roll around inside my boots. Is there some kinda foot warming secret I'm missing? How do Wisconsin dairy farmers keep their toes warm in the winter? (Speaking of Wisconsin, they won the NCAA soccer tournament 2-0 over Duke.) Well, my toes didn't really fall off; I'm hoping they'll be around to bug me for quite some time. It's pretty cold this morning and they're slightly angry at me for wearing only one wimpy pair of socks out. I'm going to get some coffee for them now; It always works for me.

12/13/95 - I spent several hours last night at a Richmond City Police Officer's Party (My roommate's brother is a cop). There's nothing quite like the uneasy safe feeling of being surrounded by cops. Sitting at a table in O'Tooles are my roommates Andy, and Brian, Brian's girl friend (and Andy's sister) Pam, Brian's sister Jennifer and Brian's Brother Mike Musselwhite. Mike and I are talking; everyone else is doing something else. "So, Mike, how many people in this bar do you think are carying guns?" "Geez, Lee! About everyone." "Argh. It's the Clan Musselwhite. How be thee on this fine evening?" "Jack, turn around." "What the... What are you doing to my butt?!" "Where's your gun?" "My gun?... Isn't that a cute butt though? Hey, let's get Mike R_____ over here and tell these people how we stole the blue ball!...." It was a very interesting evening. And just so you don't think Richmond cops are thieves, the "blue ball" turned out to be this giant blue beach ball that the current Police Academy class had to carry around as a team building exercise. Mike, Jack, and Mike R.'s unit stole it as a prank. There is actually a funny story there too, but I'm not going to get into it.

12/14/95 - Last night I hung out with a teacher. This is quite different than hanging out with cops. For one thing, teachers don't carry guns. I guess both teachers and cops have to keep cool under fire; neither can, within the duties of their profession, loose their temper. Excuse me for a moment; there are Oreos in the frezzer and I nedd some RIGHT NOW! I'm back. The cookies are slightly freezer burned, but otherwise quite good. Back to business. I spent an entire hour watching a TV show I'd never seen (Party of 5) and cutting Christmas Trees out of green poster board. The show was annoyingly good and using scissors was refreshingly fun. The weird thing was the commercials aired during the show; they were for baby toys. I know advertising guys aren't incredibly stupid, so I guess I was watching a show that is mostly watched by young parents.

12/15/95 - Maybe if I start writing words will flow out from my finger tips and end up beautifully on my green terminal emulated screen, right above the minimized icons for all kinds of stuff and between the funny little pumpkins I drew as my wallpaper at some point around halloween. Words are flowing, but I'm not getting the colorful, emotional image I wanted, I'm getting "tiny child whining in a corner as viewed by the color blind and extremely tired (and therefore detached) parental figure". I want soul; I want interest; I want [insert snappy French phrase here (something like Joi De Vi); I can't spell it]! Anyway, since I lost all my momentum looking for French words in an English dictionary, I'll start to wind this jaunt to nowhere (that almost sounds French) down. I'm starting to realize that inspiration comes to me when I'm depressed; I suppose it's a fair trade (as if "The World" were a being capable of movitation, and then fairness were that motivation) inspiration for happiness.

12/19/95 - I was on vacation yesterday. I have things to talk about today. I don't know if I want to talk about them. It's not that I'm embarrassed about anything. I just like keeping a certain sort of thing to myself. So if that weren't ambiguous enough for you... Did that last sentence make you think I was about to say something else ambiguous? I'm not. No ambiguity there. I heard my friend Matt Green on the radio just now. Last time I talked to him, he was the late night DJ on XL 102. One of the morning show guys just asked him about an upcoming hockey game. Next subject. Naaaaaaa. I'm done for today.

12/20/95 - I'm back. It rained last night so I didn't run. I had one of my favorite dinners, macaroni, peas and sauce. I found out that macaroni (the word itself) is from the Greek word makar which means blessed. I'm not really sure I understand unless it's really hard to make anything into a tube shape without a seam. I suppose if it is difficult to do then a name with divine connotations is appropriate or at least understandable. I was sent a cool joke yesterday. At first I thought it was funny, now I think it's just witty, actually very witty. Here goes: Why do programmers confuse Halloween and Christmas? Because OCT(31) = DEC(25). Get it? In octal, 31 denotes the decimal number 25. Or (3*8)+1 = (2*10)+5. I suppose it wouldn't be nearly as witty if part of the joke had been BIN(11001).

12/21/95 - I'm off until Dec 26. Soooo...

12/26/95 - Here I am, back at work on the day after Christmas. I've, today, seen no evidence of human life on this planet. I think I'm probably assuming too much from the facts before me. I figure no one else was dumb enough to work today. Hopefully someone will be on campus and I can get some work done. Otherwise, I've this small little Lego set here on my desk. I can see how many things I can build from the 50 or so pieces that now comprise a tree, a barrel, a bird and a few torches. Or I could build tootpaste sculptures with the pea sized morsel of Ultrabright that is left in my well used tube sitting inches from my left elbow. I could clean my desk. I could fill out the paper work for my annual review (that's actually work, cool). I could call the oil company and order more juice so my roommates and I don't loose toes before our lease runs out. I could do many things. Excuse me; I'm off to slay dragons.

12/27/95 - I can write about anything I want here. I could talk about my likes and dislikes, my political views, my religious faith; I have the power of a subtlety with the force of a .357. All I need do is express an interesting thought and the seed is sown. It may help if I spell the words correctly. Proper grammar is a plus. But the power here is incredible. People have died willingly for this freedom; I am their dream. Brace yourselfs. I went to bed seven minutes late last night because my friend Chris Dixon and his fiance were over as was Jon Jacob Kaminer. I was going to stay up later, but Dixon broke into a story about me and a Cape Cod bar that I didn't want to hear, so I left. I had chocolate for breakfast.

12/28/95 - This will be my last entry for 1995 so, like all writers do at this time of year, I will reflect back on the last 12 months. This is actually pretty depressing; I'm not even close to my first $1,000,000. I haven't painted a masterpiece or written the great American novel. My band has not been able to play a gig with Pearl Jam. My songs have not become instant classics. I haven't earned bonus after bonus and unlimited praise at work. But, let's look on the bright side; I'm happy. My family is here. Many of my friends are here. I have enough food and (until my lease runs out) I have a place to live. I'm ignorant of anything that really scares me (most things sort of scare me though). I'm going to shut up and keep groovin'; let's hope 1996 is at least as good as 1995.

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