More snow coming on Thursday, the day I'm supposed to do a million things including getting an estimate for my car damage. Let me check the ole horoscope: The effect of Uranus will likely have you careen off a cliff and/or explode into a fiery ball. Love will touch your day. Also, unexpected monetary gains are indicated.

Yep, better remember to wear my helmet.

This past weekend I answered about 20 No Tell submissions and have approximately 40 left to do this week. If you're still waiting to hear, know your work is being seriously considered. I'll probably fill somewhere from 6-12 slots with these remaining submissions. Just so you know, my co-editor has been quite ill this past year and unable to devote much energy on the magazine. This may possibly be the case for a while longer (although I certainly hope not, I really miss her). For now, it's just me. I'll likely be changing the No Tell reading periods to 2 one-month-long periods: one in the spring and one in the fall. I can't keep up year round (or even half year) with the growing number of subs and I don't like holding people's work for longer than 3 months which unfortunately is the case recently. At the same time, I don't want to bring on other editors or interns or whatever. No Tell is about Molly and me, our editorial direction, tastes and style -- and the magazine isn't going to go on for decades. It isn't meant for that. I'm not sure how much longer it has -- could be a year, could be five, maybe seven. Dunno. I have no immediate plans to cease publishing -- but eventually there will come a time when I'll want to work on another project and I don't think that's a bad or sad thing. Everything has its life cycle and No Tell will never become some kind of long standing institution. Unless perhaps I'm in one myself, with a padded room and no Internet access -- while Bizarro Reb goes on her tired quest for greatness, empire building and canon-making.

For now I'm still having fun so it's all worth it. But every so often relationships have to be evaluated and occasionally one must withdraw her attachment to things that take more than they give.

A few weeks ago I had this dream where I was sitting next to Daniel Craig in an auditorium. I left in the middle of the lecture to head for Europe, but realized I forgot my purse and wallet so I went back and said goodbye to Daniel again. This time we embraced and kissed and he said the loveliest things. Together we went around pulling pranks on people. We went to an artist's studio and found a painting of a heart. Suddenly Daniel wasn't Daniel anymore, he became Clive Owen and Clive painted an arrow through the heart. Then we scuttled away . . . like rats.