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An Experiment in Writing

09.30.02 - 9:12am
Modern technology has enabled me to have my newest fiction piece rejected within 24 hours of its submission.

Thank you, Internet!

09.26.02 - 11:12pm
I have zero coordination. I fell down the stairs descending the subway yesterday. But, as I am young and vaguely agile, I jumped back up and pretended it was part of a jazzy morning routine.

I read my new fiction piece at an older-person's Jewish arts event last night. It was poorly received, which is to say it was "misunderstood", which is to say it was brilliant.

Speaking of brilliance, I have had only one request for a live, on-air reading of my new fiction piece. That request came from informed Debcentral reader, great friend, and like genius Queen Jenny, the benevolent ruler of Fizzywater. I believe Roberta Flack said it best when she asked - Where is the love?

How will I ever get famous if you people don't help me out?

09.24.02 - 7:16pm
I always hate my children after they've been born.

I finished that piece I'd been working on. It's actually 4 pages double-spaced. And it needs a lot of editing. I am ashamed of this runty child I bore.

I am thinking of posting it on my website. But I'm not sure how many people even LOOK at my website.

I have repeatedly requested that people write me and give me their opinions on various topics. So far, NO ONE has written in. Does this mean that no one is looking at my site? Or could millions of Debviewers be afflicted with a debilitating case of bystander apathy?

If you are in any way a fan of the old Debcentral, and you have no plans to write in, could you at least tell everyone you know to look at my site. Then maybe, just maybe, I can finally become famous.

09.23.02 - 12:34pm
I am not as original as I would have you believe.

I just want to give a shout out to the good and kindly Queen Jenny, whose sassy website had so inspired me to update my own, and whose code, ideas, and bicycle I've been known to swipe while her back was turned.

I would also like to apologize for not previously congratulating (on this site) our great friends Rebeccah and Oron Gan on their recent marriage. It was a whirl-wind affair, one which took place during our homelessness period, and the event did not get proper recognition on Debcentral.

Lastly, I'd like to say hello to Patrick McCall, faithful checker-of-this-website, boyfriend of my sister, new employee of Florida's Department of Children and Family Services, and all-around great guy. Thanks, Patrick!

09.22.02 - 11:26pm
The Gators beat Tennessee. This makes me happy. I didn't have to visit Uncle Ira this weekend. This also makes me happy.

But I do need to purchase and mail Uncle Ira some colorful stickers. Apparently, he is a great big fan of colorful stickers.

I was hoping to work on that fiction piece I've been writing. But it is Sunday night, and I've done nothing all weekend. Oh. The self-loathing

09.20.02 - 12:00pm
Just thinking about my old landlord makes me want to vomit. Brian and I will be going down to New York County Small Claims Court next week to file suit against our old management company.

Lucky for us, the owners of this management company are morons, they have no legal grounds for holding our $1,100 security deposit, and New York City law favors tenants.

Still, this whole slumlord situations makes me ill.

In other news: I am also made ill by clowns, clumps of hair found off the body, and people defecating in public.

09.19.02 - 11:45am
Is it a distasteful thing to keep an on-line journal?
Probably. But this page has for so long been neglected, and the information on said page left so desperately out of date. I have no other choice then to convert this section of my Deb-centric website into an on-line web journal. Blech. If you want to see that old "deb's education" jazz, go to my new history page.

I am getting ready to post a new issue of deb's world view, and have also been playing around with my employer's website. I am good.

But seriously, today I made my own lunch and packed it up in one of those disposable tupperware containers. I am nearly caught up-to-date at work, and I pretended to myself that my personal life is neat, well organized, and filled with sane people.

That is, of course, a lie, as I live inside the disemboweled albatross that is my crazy uncle's apartment.

09.19.02 - 12:35pm
I am seriously considering purchasing some bootleg software off those bedraggled people who line Canal Street. Is this a bad idea? Has anyone had either a good or evil experience with such near-indigent folk? Please write me and let me know what happened.





please write me and let me know if there is an audience for such a mess as my short fiction piece.


ps: I purchased a copy of flash from one of those street people. if you want to know what happened, you'll just have to write me.


















if any random people have been keeping current with the haps on debcentral, write me an email, and I promise to mention your name live and on the air.
























logic game: if I am scared of my old landlord, but I am also scared of evil clowns, is it correct to assume that my landlord is an evil clown?



























write deb an email about the validity of the people selling hot software along canal street (around broadway)



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