20 February 1998 
 
	I can't remember very well what I was going to write, and I don't  
feel like writing much.  Whatever.  It's rather pathetic, being here on a  
friday night.  But, really, just as pathetic being alone, up late etc. on  
any other night.  It's like the special significance one assigns to having  
no one for new years or valentines day. 
 
	So a few things I have written down from bored periods of some  
classes (some profs _do_ go on, even long after they've made their points.   
Makes me think of some homilies I've listened to.) 
 
	I seem to have picked up a couple of IRC fans, but rather low-key.   
They don't send emails or stalk me or anything like that.  "Breath of  
fresh air", ah the ego boost that is the on-line.  Perhaps it's because  
they notice I'm female, and perhaps don't seem to be taken, but then it  
could be that they "really like me! you really, really like me!"  Someone  
suggested sociology as a career, but I really don't see it.  I think I  
could do okay as a newspaper columnist, I have an opinion on almost  
anything.  In the olden days, I would have made my way as a party-goer,  
using my vast conversational skills to get infinite invites.  Or in the  
Warholian era I could have had my own little personality cult.  Now with  
the web, the cult of personality has fractured into lots of little bits,  
and I get a dribble every so often, usually from someone I actually know.   
I'm not sure that I'm pleased with the extensive connectivity of the net  
anymore.  Too many people on, the adoration is split up, and I can't win  
any contests. Blah. 
 
	It's interesting that we call people of a limited  
vision/experience provincial, for I'm finding New York City to be one of  
the most provincial existences I've ever had.  I hardly do anything but  
go from the cozy mass of blanket & comforter to the little village that is  
Courant.  My real excursions are to the Farmers Market.  I make trips up  
to the 13th floor and look upon my favorite structure, the Chrysler  
Building (Art Deco is the only architectural style ever suited to New  
York.. it's gorgeous).  Everyone revolves in their little bit.  And until  
I get my gas mask in the mail, I'm not venturing on the subway.  I have  
enough problems as it is.