I'm writing daily summaries to my friends and family via e-mail but don't think I have enough soul in my paper journal. I haven't touched this thing in month(s).

Oh yeah, I'm in London.

I wonder about the efficacy that an online journal gives me. I wonder at the urge to share but keep hidden. I wonder at my spotty updates, occasionally replaced by frenzies of shallow self expression swallowed up by its own self-conscious impulse.

I wonder how the sky does that thing here where the sun is setting for three hours and all three hours are simultaneously the bluest blue and the pinkest pink that ever blued or pinked.

I wonder why I've never mentioned this thing to my boyfriend. He doesn't do that whole instant messenger deal so he can't get the link that way and it's never come up in conversation and I barely update but, of course, he's here so maybe he should know about it since I've put part of him as part of me on part of the Internet that will prevent me from getting elected one day.

This is my form of stream of consciousness, and I've decided (this moment, this time) that this is the function of the Online Journal That No One Reads. Preserving helplessly, hopelessly self conscious stream-of-consciousness that I've been saving up for weeks and will spell check for my own posterity. That was, despite it's length, a fragment.

I hear Buddy Wakefield's voice in my own head when I write - is that so wrong?

I do not know that I could ever live here, in London, in a city. I think it is city which confounds me more than anything else. I love it and I hate it. I love the innumerable nooks and crannies - I love the public transport, I almost love the struggle to survive and conquer or get taken away every day. But still, I do not know if I could live here.

If I lived in London, wouldn't I take it for granted? And wouldn't that, really, be the greatest of the great tragedies?

I'm such a small town girl it hurts. I wish I had an accent like Grayson's (though his is polished, South Carolinian gentry) so that I could say to the world, 'World - I'm just a little girl from the south - despite my brassy, Jewish ways.' That is a contradiction.

I meant to visit the Jewish area. I haven't yet. Time is running out (we only have 4 days left in the shadow of three attempted terror attacks and I'm trying as hard as hard can be not to let them get me down but that's why I can't stand cities - you're never a target in Podunk, VA except for the bigots and you can fight them with your superior knowledge and you can feel good about it).

The city sometimes makes me want to be alone.

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