Before I sat down I had a whole ton of stuff I wanted to talk about, but I guess I must've resolved it all as I was thinking it through, as now I'm pulling a complete blank. What the hell I'll wing it.

I didn't get much sleep (again) last night as I stayed up far too late packing and dicking around on the net. Fortunately though I think I can avoid going in first thing in the AM. I still have the work to do, but I believe I can sweet talk one of my staff with the promise of cappuccinos and biscotti to bring the work to me. I saw the SOW for a few minutes today and she was telling me all about how inane her life is. Actually she was just telling me a story but I was able to ascertain that her life was inane from the context of what she said. Yep, its my special gift.

Tonight some angry drunk got on the train and was screaming at everybody, telling us all that we'd fucked him over once too many times, and that tonight he would exact his revenge on all of us. Everybody ignored him.

I've almost finished my book on the story of Paul and Karla Homolka. They've been mentioning in the media how the tapes of the death and rape of the two girls, Kristen French and Leslie Mahaffy, will become public knowledge and be accessible despite an attempt by the girls' families to have the evidence sealed. I'm not really sure what that means in regards to who can access the tapes, but regardless I can't imagine what the families of the victims are going through. Once I'd read about just what they had to endure during their captivity and victimization I've thought of them often. I wonder how often people read about these stories and the victims stay with you and you feel for them as you would a loved family member. Usually we remember the killer and the victims tend to blend in together after the fact. But I find myself opening the book up on occasion and studying the school pictures of these two girls and try to imagine just what it was he saw in them. What was it that singled them out as the Homolka's victims? Seems that every girl they sought out, even the ones that lived, were singled out because they represented to the Homolkas purity, cleanliness, and schoolgirl innocence. These kids had so much going for them. Really is heartbreaking to say the least, god the very least. I can't imagine what possesses two people to go to such planning and extremes of behavior. Not a very fair trade... my sexual urges in exchange for your life.

I've heard that Winona Ryder still carries a picture of Polly Class with her wherever she goes. I used to think this was a bit extreme considering she'd never met the child. Now I can understand more clearly her motivations. I think it is possible to love someone out of empathy alone.

I'm short of time and long of tooth... and heavy of heart. Hence I shall end this now, and bid you goodnight. I need to do some stuff and then crawl into a hot bath before bed. I'm gonna finish this book tonight and figure that next I'll read either Mansfield Park by Austen or perhaps finish that half read copy of Mary Barton by Elizabeth Gaskell. I'm the worst for reading half a book and then finishing it as late as two years later. The mean time is actually about six months, but on occasion it can stretch as far as two years.

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