My blue pocket flexible Miguelruis notebook contains: *Model numbers of dining chairs from a furniture store. *The address of the Carl & Anne Braden historical marker. *Titles of books I'd like to read ("Alice Waters & Chez Panisse" by McNamee, "This is your Brain on Music," and a book about William James). *Many notes about a play I'm writing. *Address of a friend's grown up kid, so I can send her a note. *Quotes from things I read: "There is no enlightment outside of daily life." Thich Nacht Hahn *Names of restaurants that I hear about and then want to eat at (both local and ones to travel to). *Things I hear people say: A guy at Maker's Mark distillery telling me that "Very few can taste or feel white lightning on the tip of their tongue. Those that do have a very sensitive palate." *A note that my beloved is one of the very few who can taste white lightning on the tip of her tongue. *Things my beloved tells me to write down, like "easel, Sharpie." and "Joseph & the Technicolor Dreamcoat." *Words from magazines glued into my notebook: e.g., Crossroads. *For some reason I wrote down the dimensions "24 x 25 x 4" and I don't know why.