Workbook: December, 2003
- December 31, 2003: Day at the high point.
- December 30, 2003: I do exactly what she would do.
- December 29, 2003: New SUVs.
- December 28, 2003: Her voice on my digital dictating recorder.
- December 27, 2003: Insecurity.
- December 26, 2003: A colleague says of you...
- December 25, 2003: Fasting. The cheapest high.
- December 24, 2003: She said, "I need to feel pain to become aroused."
- December 23, 2003: The seductiveness of children.
- December 22, 2003: Backstage, not much...
- December 21, 2003: To touch her face.
- December 20, 2003: Ned: I'm entitled to my own opinion.
- December 19, 2003: Punishment by withdrawal.
- December 18, 2003: I broke the news on the pier, above crashing boomers, one afternoon in early summer.
- December 17, 2003: Her picture on the rocks, Sunset Cliffs.
- December 16, 2003: Her brilliant interaction with the children...
- December 15, 2003: Your crews are clearing pine trees.
- December 14, 2003: Like a good sport I've laughed along with her teasing about my supposed sweet tooth.
- December 13, 2003: RL spam email titles:
- December 12, 2003: However, things like work and one's feeble attempts at reading interpose themselves...
- December 11, 2003: Whispers.
- December 10, 2003: The magical concept that like attracts like.
- December 9, 2003: Biker girl, back of a black Harley...
- December 8, 2003: San Francisco as a place of great Evil.
- December 7, 2003: Salmon, mink, music, alcohol.
- December 6, 2003: Life with her is a selfish brawl.
- December 5, 2003: I'd been concerned for some time that she was manipulating me over money.
- December 4, 2003: She turned toward me laughing a bitter laugh...
- December 3, 2003: Confinement.
- December 2, 2003: Inflatable plastic snowmen; blinky lights; toxic-looking white spray-stuff that's supposed to evoke winter.
- December 1, 2003: Sunset in the park.