I'm having dinner this evening with Dean Young before his reading at Wesleyan. That's right. I said it. I'm a little nervous. I'm feeling sick. I have to do things I do want to (we're not talking about Dean Young anymore). I'm sad this week. My lower back hurts and I won't be hungry. I hope I say something insightful. I'm thinking of writing a poem with a line about Christmas in it. I have just the line.