i accidentally write the date first in titling this entry, cross it out, title it how i usually title it, but underline the crossout, too. It reminds me of my focus on chronology, following the events as the events happen, but very little about these entries seems event-focused or -based, but also, it does seem very concerned with time, or i do, time as a contracting orb, time as an inflating and swelling orb, time as an orb that once was alive but has died, in space, floating there, not even orbiting, an orb that doesn’t orbit, a fixed cold planet in space. i wear my “She Who Sleeps With Cats” muumuu on Halloween and everyone compliments it, strangers and friendly acquaintances, what the two have in common is they don’t know me, they ask me what i’m supposed to be but i am just myself, i wear this shirt once a week. i do laundry a lot. i can smell the dryer from here. A man comes up to Travis and Kim and me and he is old and talkative but quiet, no one can hear him but i am the only one of us that leans in to try to hear him, i want to know what he is saying, i don’t, actually, even want to know what he is saying, i want him to feel that someone wants to know what he is saying. “You know what I know about you,” he says, and i say i don’t. “You are yourself,” he says. “I don’t see any way around that,” i say, “even on Halloween.” “But you know what I’m saying,” he says, and i say yes, because i do. Eva says to me the comedy scene is really ivy. What does that mean, i say. It took me years to get in it, she says, because I didn’t go to an ivy league, and everyone in the scene is from Harvard or Yale, and I was bullied and I was refused, and they hated me more because I was really good, she says. Because I am really good, she says. But they all ignored me for a long time and that was their way of bullying me, she says. The ghost of a ghost, she says.