ASK ME WHY I CARE: An update

About being negligent with my posts, the public diary to I dunno whom?

I really don't. It's just that I have that Catholic Guilt instilled. It's like a freaking homing device.

Either way, I will catch you up-- but more importantly, myself! Yes! Me! Selfish!-- on subjects re:

* The death of my aunt Loretta, The Punkette before The World Knew Punk, and also my mother's closest conspirator and confidante;
* The birth of my little nephew, Ryan Joseph, a tiny, glorious nugget of Irish-Korean dreamery;
* The drunken lady who phoned me one night, who, when I asked who she was, simply told me that she was 'having a night, dahling, and so should you. We're at...' (phone Klaks to floor);
* The motherfucker at the intersection of Central and North Ave., who continually insists on cleaning my windshield with spit and chutzpah. I got nothing for you, man, so stuff it and stop getting Tourette's on me;
* And the fly in its death throes, whapping its own little crap-dancing body against the monitor, again and again. Whatchoo looking for? The tap-shoe for poo you lost somewhere in my house?