Finally: A west coaster who has seen the light.

I am so very upset about yesterdays big breakup. I just can�t believe it, really. I mean, they were getting along so well, and their future seemed bright and full of promise, at least to me.

Best wishes to both NASA and the Mars Rover. I hope they find happiness and start talking again soon.

Remember when I sliced my toe open? It was after my roommate�s failed assassination attempt, in which he polished the kitchen tile a little too vigorously. Of course you remember.

The cut is right on the front of my left big toe. It�s taking some damn sweet time healing, as it gets stepped on all day. If you�re going to get a cut anywhere, I recommend it not be on a part of your body you use regularly.

Because of this toe slicing, I�ve learned that an extremely unpleasant way to start your day is to stub that sliced toe against your bathtub as you�re climbing in to take a shower.

You�ll do what you always do when you sustain injury, which is tell yourself that pain doesn�t exist, as it�s only a signal your brain sends to your body to warn you that you may be damaging yourself. As admirable as that is, it doesn�t stop the feelings of extreme unpleasantness, and you involuntarily find yourself raising two clenched fists into the air, and emitting a silent (it�s early, and people are sleeping), prolonged scream of agony that can best be transcribed as �FUUUUUUUUUUHHHHH ARGGGGGGG GYUH!�

And then you pick up the pieces and move on.

In workplace news, I am currently at odds with my coworker Jessica over a dispute involving a koosh ball.

On Wednesday, I threw at her the koosh ball in question. She took it into her custody, and refused to give it back. As we were walking to our cars that night, I acted as if I were extraordinarily sad because �I had a really great week, and it was all because of that koosh ball.�

She insisted that she didn�t know where it was, and I insisted I was despondent without my koosh. When we reached our cars, she revealed that she had it all along, and threw it at me. I threw it back at her, and she grabbed it, jumped into her car and sped from the parking lot with a squeal.

The next day, I found a note demanding 30 cents for the release of ol� kooshy. One of his kooshes was taped to the note, the same way a ransom victims� thumb might be sent as a threat.

I responded that I didn�t negotiate with terrorists, and insisted that she return the koosh and allow inspectors, or face the consequences. Hours of silence preceded my finding a black and white photograph of the koosh with the words �Help me! Save me!� desperately scrawled upon it.

This will not stand. Or it may. I haven�t decided how much I care.

The other day, in my readings, I came across a reference to penises.

More specifically, a reference to the distinguishing characteristics of penises. That�s a funny little phrase and concept I�ve let swim to the surface of my head ever since the Lewinsky scandal, the idea that any one penis can be distinguished from another beyond the obvious of big/small, thick/thin, yours/mine, etc. I guess it makes sense, but I�ve never given it much thought due to my lifelong experiment with heterosexuality.

So. I began thinking about my penis. Is there anything in particular about it that would qualify as a distinguishing characteristic? I certainly think so. As a favor to you, I�m going to publish here a list of them, so that you may identify it if you should encounter a penis and aren�t sure whose it is.

- Leans a little to the right. Not too unusual!

- It�s been described as �smooth.� That confused me. Are others lumpy?

- Freckle on the right side.

- Harvard MFA, Poetry

- Baritone

- Scorpio

- Good with kids.