messages to frances1972:
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from mainsqueeze :
I tried leaving this in the guestbook but it wouldn't let me. All I wanted to say was how awesome and amazing I think you are, and to not worry because I've learned that even when you're shitty and sad all the time, people still keep on loving you. And I'll keep on secretly loving you, too. Formerly secretly. Take care. -Angela
from brittania :
I did see the storm first. We saw it last night and all day today down here. It's a doozy. Sleeping in my new/old place and then the rain started-- we had the windows open and I thought it was squirrels again, jumping in the trees, only it wasn't this time. Raindrops instead. And me with feet in my ribs. The storms a-coming. Not much lightning. But a doozy rain. XXXXX.
from elvisload :
That Shelby Lee Adams sure snaps some shots...I like this one special... http://www.bulgergallery.com/dynamic/fr_artwork_display.asp?ArtworkID=185
from mainsqueeze :
Wooohooo! Are you back, Frances? I'm getting all teary with joy, here. If you don't mind, would you send me the password to your journal? If you want it to be completely private, though, I understand. I'm glad you're, you know, alive. Good thoughts, Frances. And I still have that cd I made for you. One of these days I'll stop being lazy and send it. --Angela
from molu4 :
That guestbook is acting up again. Shucks. Except I have a feeling this is going to be one of those things where I'll put what I wrote in your guestbook here and then someday in the future it'll show up there too. That place is crazy. Here's what I wrote there which maybe will show up sometime and maybe won't: You did something special here in diaryland and a whole lot of people are going to miss it. I miss all those satellite beeps already, Frances's reports from outer space radios. Thank you for what you wrote down, for you, your voice that's like no other voice on the planet and for this radio station so we could all tune in for awhile. I'm going to try to remember it right now, try not to be too sad about frances1972 going away. Keep on rockin, friend.
from caterwaul :
oh my god who are you. you have *great* taste. (which is really just accolades for myself, since you seem to have my taste ;)
from brittania :
I just signed your guestbook, only it wouldn't let me. But then it said I signed again too fast too fast. But if I didn't sign it in the first place, then what gives. So, I'm gonna give it a minute and see if it takes. And if it don't, I'm gonna write you all the love again. So, in one form, Miss Frances, I'll be talking to you soon. Hear? XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX.
from brittania :
Aw man. That Emu Chase was while I was at work. I'm glad you pointed me to the story, though. That one guy, he was talking about the prized Emu meat, he says, "They taste more like beef than ostrich do." There's people who know that, my Frances. And that makes me feel good. It just goes to show. I hit them low-livin blues last night. Man but if I saw an Emu or had a chat with a guy like that Quinn. I woulda liked the hell outta that. I feel all right, Frances. Y'know that? Yep. I think I do now. And that's good enough for me. God's plenty. Good day to you. XOXOXOXOXOXOXO all through that unreachable nightspace.
from beltedweir :
hey there Boo Boo. I am just sitting around watching the new I love the eighties series. I have to put a tie on tomorrow so that I can do a video interview to be a substitute teacher. What kind of crap is that? Anyway, I realized that you and I can never IM if you do not know where I am. So, like all other things, it is beltedweir. I hope that you will come to the Bill Monroe thing with me. Talk tp you later baby. This is Dave Weir (subtly mocking you but trying not to do it in the obnoxious way that my father did on your answering machine.) Good bye
from cdghost :
read some of your words..enjoyed it a lot..all the best
from mainsqueeze :
I am an idiot. My e-mail address is [email protected] Heh.
from mainsqueeze :
Heya, Fraces. I figure I should be getting ready to send your cd out soon, so e-mail me an address I can send it to. Okay? Okay. Take care, Miss. Hope things are all good out there.
from brittania :
Have fun at the picture show. Don't XXX in the picture show or you'll miss something. And if you go to the bathroom. I can't see my student workers. I bet they're XXXX. XXXX to you.
from brittania :
Frances. He full of shit. Oh boy, I got a weird man at the library here. I better go handle him. XXXXXXX. I get to see you I get to see you in less than a month, to boot. Love
from elvisload :
frances...britt called me a queen and told me to shut up and to fuck off...
from elvisload :
them words in ur g-book are from another album but it just seemed like I could hear you listening to that tonight instead of Nebraska...ain't that odd
from elvisload :
You have just surpasses yourself. Man o man I can just see you feeding them dogs like it's real pressing business. I keep wondering if there was one of them flimsy tie-dye blankets hanging on the wall in that room under who's door you spoke.
from elvisload :
i've made the most awesomess tape for you...but u have to read the neil young biography first....SHAKEY....
from elvisload :
You know that line in ...the effect of gamma rays on man-in-the-moon marigolds...where her mom comes into the auditorium and says...”my heart is full”...that’s how I feel now....
from elvisload :
i forgot to say this in the book...well...i umm...finished reading then i thot of this but i wasn't finished reading when i left the book thingy...ok...somebody said that riding the train is so great cause you get to see everyone's back yard....i always thot that was sorta nice...
from elvisload :
can i make a cd instead...?
from elvisload :
ya ur rite about these days...they're sunny...but down through January and February it's a very different thing...
from elvisload :
Don't understand why you put me on your list. All of those people can write and they seem to have lives too. I don't live in a cool milkhouse or a tent or a root cellar or have a wood deck or fly in planes or move 350 miles or play the sax or kiss grapes or subscribe to magazines or skinny-dip. I'm utterly, utterly, lost.
from molu4 :
Hey you old buzzard Frances (I'm just joking). Sheesh, figuring out the whole private business (my private business, I mean--and yep, that's funny to me too) gave me headaches. I think that if you look at frances1972.diaryland.com/private/older.html all of your private entries should show up. But you have to be careful not to archive your private entries--that's where I always slip up. Yep. Buffy and beers, that's what the afternoon positively BEGS for. And me too. Buffy and beers. And Frances.
from brittania :
Too fast of a signer, you know. But after all that, I didn't even say how much I liked this entry. I like your Mott. What else can I tell you? The air conditioner's like a meat keeper in this here library. Imagine if it was meatkeeper instead of beekeeper. How would our lives be changed? Lack buzz and gain tenderizer. It's early. I'm going. I miss you. XXX.
from lefaive :
hi, um, frances. i notice that your journal is now password-protected. i wonder if i could have that password, though i see that you no longer list me as a friend, so i won't be hurt if you deny me access. i've been thinking for a long time -- and have been meaning to say -- you may like the music of iron and wine, if you've never given it a listen. bye now.
from brittania :
I sign guestbook too fast. So, here: You up, too, I reckon, because I read this when you accidentally had all that stuff yellow in the first paragraph and I thought, hmm, I better click that shit. Yep. Now I see. You got me good with your momma and then plus, how you describe things, yes, like the rats in focus. Made my night worth something.
from molu4 :
I love Frances.
from lou-cat :
Hey Frances. I just wanted to let you know that I loved your last entry, letter to MM one. It moved me. And just last night I was having this conversation about how terrible the idea of one person for one person is, how immobilizing and ridiculous, to put an amount on love. I do not believe in fated existences. I believe in choosing and responsibility. So I wanted to thank you for saying what you did, so thoughtfully and honestly. It was really wonderful to read.
from molu4 :
I'm so mad because I wanted to leave you a guestbook entry but that place isn't working or something (and really, I'm not sooo mad, I'm just bone dead tired) and thus, here I am. Frances. Lord. I kept highlighting different passages from this entry because I was going to quote this one (no this one!), but I realize the whole thing is so right on. It makes me want to talk for hours with you about that stuff--point of view, baby. That's right. I'm tired and senseless and will attempt a more coherent guestbook entry on the morrow. Peace baby jeans.
from molu4 :
Hi there milady. I never left you a note before so I figured it was high time. I just read in Brittania's journal about your MP and it freaked me out. World's colliding and that rot. Which is really all I have to say. Oh! Except I'm sorry the tree house fell through. Love,
from lou-cat :
Hey Frances. Thanks for sending me that note. It was nice to hear from you. I will be leaving tomorrow for Virginia, wondering if I will be meeting the person you spoke about, the one who will be starting the GMU program with me when I get there. I am in a hurry, as usual, but I will be writing again soon. As soon as I get a bit settled.
from lou-cat :
Hello. I thought of you this morning while driving to work and listening to NPR, the tail end of an interview with Doc Watson, a man I have only learned about through your diary. I believe the interview had taken place in Alexandria, VA (which is where I will be moving in about a month) and then the radio said that Doc Watson will be playing in Boone?, NC sometime soon. For some reason, I think I remember reading that you live or at least have lived before in NC. Also, I feel flattered to be on your favorite's list. I am a fan of your diary as well. Take care.
from nowbreathe :
uncle tupelo is probably one of my top ten all time favorite bands. party down.

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