On November 17, I awake in Boston and my diary reads:

 

Eastern Standard, lousy place, lousy breakfast. Twink waiter looking for a sugar daddy. S to Cambridge. South Station. Bus to Car. Orleans for picnic food. Cheese and cornichon.

I looked up sic and this is what it said sic¹

sik/adverb

used in brackets after a copied or quoted word that appears odd or erroneous to show that the word is quoted exactly as it stands in the original, as in a story must hold a child’s interest and “enrich his [ sic ] life.”

If the last bit makes any sense to you let me know. Oh, wait, you can’t because you’re not actually out there. I have no readership. Of this I am aware. And yet I am just over a month away from completing at three-year-long daily Blague without a single day missing! So I think it’s safe to say that I do this for me. You’re still wondering though why I brought up sic

 Never mind you don’t need to know yet. Suffice to say that I needed to as a jumping off point for something else I’m working on. It says in my schedule I tackle it after the 16th of February, 2018.

 I miss simple pleasures. I want to go to the movies but I don’t want to get a flu. Soon I’ll be able to take my long constitutionals on the beach. I wonder if I mightn’t hit all my marks this year. Perhaps I need to keep the pledge. I have been watching Ken Burn’s doc Prohibition in three parts and I absolutely love it. I was fascinated by the Washingtonian movement. It would actually make a fantastic screenplay idea. Yeah, so where do you write down, on what list, an idea like that. Do you put it in Sharpie on a blank white card and pin it to your wall as evidence you’re bipolar?

 

Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
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