2001-10-04 - 7:59 p.m.

On the internal soundtrack: "Rise", PIL

Talked to my brother today. He is also laid-off and looking -- his company closed the Manhattan office a couple months ago -- and seems to be enjoying his time off. He's okay financially for the time being, and tells me today that he's been entertaining three women from Australia, showing them the sights and doing the tourist thing.

Three. And I have no doubt they're completely charmed by him. Supposedly one of them is a sister of a friend of his, and the others are friends of hers. Good deal, there.

My brother really turned out to be something else. He's stunningly handsome, exceedingly well-dressed, articulate, eloquent, and charming as hell. Yet very real at the same time -- he doesn't try to be someone he's not.

Amazing how someone I fought with over playing Atari vs. watching TV turned out so spectacularly. I'm very proud of him.

My elbow scrape has almost completely healed and is no longer a source of discomfort. However, some of the healed spots have turned into little tattoos. I have little tiny slashes of black where the coal-y dirt got embedded and I couldn't wash it out. It looks ridiculous. I'll take a photo when the scrape is completely gone. My MIL is telling me that there are various ways I can have the tattoos removed, but I don't think I care enough.

On my right forearm I have a similar little tiny black spot where I accidentally stabbed myself with a sharp pencil (it was sticking out of my jean pocket; duh) in shop in seventh grade. I suppose at this point it's never going away. I don't care about that either.

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