Very recently, a very nice (and concerned) reader suggested I might benefit from a personal retreat. She'd been reading my site diligently over the last couple of months and saw a pattern of disillusionment and sadness creeping into my writing. I was sort of taken aback by the forthright attitude of this perfect stranger, but decided to check out some of my old entries to measure them against her hypothesis anyway. Why? Because, above all else, I believe in scientific inquiry. Just ask my reflexologist.

It pains me to say this, but I have to agree with this reader. I scoured my entries from 2003 and found some painful evidence to corroborate her story. Here are some of the more tell-tale passages from the tremble.com dailies:

[January 16, 2003]
"Couldn't sleep again last night. My mind was wracked by horrible nightmares. I dreamed I was the rounded end of a baguette in a café table's bread basket and no one wanted to eat me. Even the restaurant's most morbidly obese patron refused me, choosing to butter his own fist instead."

[January 28, 2003]
"Tonight I asked for K's hand in marriage. K found the gesture uncomfortably impulsive; her warden agreed. She recommended I wait 8-10 years, possibly less with parole."

[February 4, 2003]
"Lately I've become obsessed with suicide. Not my own, of course. Mostly my ex-girlfriend's. Futterman explained that, technically, that's called homocide. Why must Futterman always stand in my way? This is just like the time he told me my idea for a 'PRACTICALLY NUDE GIRLS' night club was unambitious. Right now I would like very much to help Futterman commit suicide."

[February 21, 2003]
"I drew the curtains in my study because I never want to see daylight again. In addition, I would never again like to see Mrs. Lipinski shave her armpits in the window directly across from my study. If I had a gun, she'd be dead from suicide right now."

[March 4, 2003]
"I long for the new Yo La Tengo album. And death's cold embrace."

[March 5, 2003]
"Downloaded the new Yo La Tengo off Kazaa. Now I just long for death. It feels good to simplify."

[March 12, 2003]
"I can no longer wait for K's answer. Today, I visited her correctional facility and brought her a cake with a pre-nuptial agreement baked inside it. I was born, and will die, a cautious romantic."

[April 1, 2003]
"Good news! I don't have syphillis. Bad News. I've already colored in most of my 'SO YOU HAVE SYPHILLIS' activity book. Is there no end to my grief?"

[April 15, 2003]
"Perhaps I've underestimated Radiohead."

And here's the most significant detail linking all of these posts together. The first one occurred on the very same evening I first viewed the trailer for Steve Martin's newest film, Bringing Down The House.