9:29 a.m. - Tuesday, Jul. 02, 2002
Ms Leslie's withdrawal
I got called a new name yesterday. I think it was good. A young lady less than a third my age wrote to tell me she had been reading my diary and website and she just wanted me to know I am a very �spiffy� person. Spiffy; I think that�s good. At least I made that assumption when I wrote a short note back to thank her for the compliment. It �was� a compliment thirty years ago, when it meant that you were nicely dressed. Did she really mean to tell me I was nicely dressed?

I missed my chance. I should have written back, thanked her, and, reaching back to the slang of the sixties, told her she was �far out�. Then we both might have reeled away from our encounter, scratching our heads and wondering if we had just been praised or buried. Spiffy me and far out grrl� you know who you are.

Just kidding. She said other nice things about me and my diary, so I�m sure spiffy is a good thing to be, as always. The truth is, it was really nice to hear from her. I know there are people out there who read this stuff, but I seldom hear from anyone about it, aside from a jerkwad or two. So thanks grrl. You made me feel good all day.

It�s been a little over 24 hours now since I dis-invited old man nicotine from the ongoing cocktail party that goes on in my blood. Personally, I don�t miss him. He�s nasty, smelly and dangerous. Apparently, though, I�m in the minority. Every nerve ending in my body has made room for him on the couch. Now he�s gone, and the nerve cells are missing him something awful. I can tell from the tunnel vision, the jaw grinding, the dizziness and the irritability. Yes� I said irritability. If you�d shut up and listen, I wouldn�t have to repeat myself! Oh� sorry.. I didn�t mean to yell. So, he�s gone, but he left a hell of an indentation on the couch. I don�t think anything can fill it. I�m just going to have to live with this for a month or so until my body forgets what it was like. Wish me luck. This ain�t easy.

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