05.19.01 - 10:37 a.m.

I decided maybe to change the title of this thing, after doing a Google search and realizing some other ass decided to call her diary "letters, never sent." Yeah, like the comma makes that much difference and does anyone else know I took it from an R.E.M. song, not the Carly Simon album? (Although I do have fond memories of listening to Carly's late 80s classic "Coming Around Again" while being dragged to the kid shrink.)

Anyway. For the day, at least, I'm renaming it [deletia], in honor of my new favorite Doug quote:

I learned a great new word today: "deletia." When you get an email and reply to the sender, you simply obliterate everything they sent you and then, in small square brackets, write:

It stands for everything that�s been lost.

My problems, your problems, the 80,000 Diaryland members' problems. Reading everyone else's mopey sad sack entries does make me put things in perspective, but it doesn't make my life any better. I'm going to have bad credit until I'm 40, I swear. I'll probably never be able to sleep an entire week without one or two nights of insomnia. Three more weeks of this godforsaken project, which is so aptly named because I feel like I'm in some kind of Initiative/Riley Finn mind control "let's put 'em behind glass and see how Lord of the Flies they get" kind of experiment. Sob sob, bitch bitch bitch.

But...I have two illustrations going in the prototype. It's a gorgeous sunny day. I have tix to the BNL show in August (after more headaches with ticketmaster.com, but let's not sweat the small stuff). Leanne's coming for the 4th of July. I'm moving downtown in less than a month......

Yet I completely forgot my dream last night. I was walking through some mall, or down some hallway, and this randomly cute guy with glasses walks past me. I think to myself, "Who was that?" because I didn't immediately recognize him, but I felt like I'd seen him before. Later, I sort of wake up out of my dream and realize: it was Jason.

I didn't know him. What does this mean?