Isn't the language of Iraq "Farsi?" Doesn't that make the letter "Farsical"?---Rich. Yes, we know it's really Iran, but what fun is that?

And that's why I'm glad I met him 39 years ago. I was an officer in the Newman Club, and had the nice red blazer to prove it. (This was 25 to 30 pounds ago. I'm up one pound again today.) We had actually missed meeting earlier in the summer. His Air Force sponsor was interested in me himself. I'd done a lot of the organizing for the Newman School of Catholic Thought, a summer school we had, and Ron brought me by some paperwork with Rich in the car. "Won't your friend come in?" "No, he's tired and I'm taking him to his apartment."

Later it developed that he had the same basement apartment my steady of the previous year shared with his cousin. I'd stopped with the "steady" business because I'd met Tom and been invited to the Air Force Academy Ring Dance, and the summer had also had other fun times, like Science Camp and all the menfolks there, but Joe still was serious. Indeed. One of the places I'd gone that summer was to meet his folks in Rock Springs, which is fairly serious, especially to him. I was getting antsy, and a couple of weeks later, my birthday, when Joe didn't even manage a card, I'd pretty well given up on him.

But back to the 17th. I was being a good Newmanite and greeting people coming to 5 o'clock Mass. Rich came in with (tall, handsome) Mike, and Mike is the one I thought was most interesting. I had a hard time remembering the hard name "Yarnot", too. After 37 years as one, though, I have lost patience with all these stupid folks who can't remember how to spell it after I slowly go through the six letters. Rich joined the Newman Club and got really interested in a few of the girls, mostly Margaret and Martha, the twins, and their also-short friend Carol.

"Short" worked out for us, by October 6 and the Paul Bunyon party. This was an annual trek to the mountains to get firewood for the fireplace at the Newman Center. I looked around and realized that there were four girls to every boy, and I wanted mine. Mike didn't come to this, and besides, by this time I realized he was pretty shy and not that fun to be with. I zeroed in on Rich as did Margaret, Martha, short Mary and Carol. OK, then. Short Ted also joined us. This was all fine till it came time to work, which consisted of picking up and carrying logs. With Rich in front and me in back, the short folks in the middle practically hanging from the log as we walked along. He and I did all the work, in fact. By the time dinner was served, and we were singing around the campfire, we were an item. Joe wouldn't sing, Rich enjoyed it. Joe didn't think it was good to laugh at dinner. Joe, in fact, didn't swing his arms when he walked. Repressed, was Joe. Father T. warned Rich that Joe was a "coal miner" and Rich said it didn't matter, he came from a steelworking family. I mostly preened. When we got back, it seemed Joe had been looking for me, but he could have come to the party.

From then on, we were an item. Our first date started with a football game and then we were going to a dance that night. Rich had a lot more money, his Air Force salary, than the usual college kid. So after the game we walked downtown and had pizza and bowled and went to dinner before the dance. I was astounded. We talked about everything, and I came home determined to marry this wonderful guy. I think he took a little longer to come to the same conclusion. He still had plans to get to know Margaret and Martha and Mary and Carol better. Ha.

And I gripe sometimes, but I'm really glad we met. (Snideness alert): Rich's foot hurts, but he won't go see a podiatrist. He says there are no orthotics that would help. I'm glad he has that medical degree so he doesn't have to waste all that money at Kaiser. Grumble.

DEX IS BACK!!!

I finally found one of the pictures from ConFrancisco in 1993. As you see, my camera lens was defective. (Rich kept thinking I moved, till we went to Yellowstone and suddenly he learned it wasn't the person behind the camera.) She keeps asking how young she looks... see, she doesn't look any older now than she did last time.

2002.

Vincenik got Kerfuffle's brother, Bandit, by a series of coincidences. They were told about this dog. Bandit's former owner had been to the pound about two hours before they picked Fuff out two years ago. I think they should name their new condo "Daisy Hill" because even though the dogs aren't beagles, it's reminiscent of Snoopy's family reunions.

I sold the Davis house!!! Well, it won't close till the buyers get their financing, but it's not a credit problem, it's just the banker's backlog. That was a lot easier than I thought. I don't have to pay the last half of the county taxes, the escrow has paid it, and they're also taking care of the City of Davis, so the last bill I have is PG&E. All we did was go in, and I signed a lot of things, got copies, and left. Total time, less than 30 minutes.

Two ObGoes, besides selling the house, of course: PETA may lose its tax-exempt status, and Neil Gaiman's journal. We three went to Berkeley a few years ago and heard Gaiman read. I got my copy of GOOD OMENS signed and Gerhard had him sign two, including one for Bernadette. (She got it completed with Pratchett's signature at WorldCon.) I didn't know about that till I was cleaning out his bookshelves.