Don't you think that's cool? How the air can just move over you? It kills me every time.

I noticed that Lynne's tan bra strap was poking out of her dress, and thought how lovely that was. Little hiccups in the mundane delight me.

In front of the Diner, on Clark Street, a rally of people celebrated the overturning of the Texas “homosexual conduct” law which prohibited “deviate sexual intercourse,” including anal and oral sex. All injustice aside, how could such a law even be feasibly enforced?

[Knocknock]

"Hello? What're you fellas doin' in there?"

"Uh, nuthin'! We sher ain't cocksuckin' er buttfuckin'!"

"Oh. Well. Carry on, then."

[Moaning resumes from behind the door.]

Yay! Ten points for consensual blowjobs and boogaloos!

What a good little night.

I am very easily touched by things. The everything of everything just gets to me. I'm all tingly and wavy, like I'm on ecstasy all the time. But really, I'm just sappy and lame.

When I was in college I used to open at a coffee shop, and had to get there at 5:45 in the morning. I loved it. I got to see the sun rise every morning in the winter, and chill with Nick, the old Greek guy who owned the place and gushed about what a "good worker" I was. There was a small statue, a Native American Monument of all things, in the lawn dividing the two lanes of traffic in Massachusetts Avenue right outside the store window. One morning, I watched a small flock of starlings alight from the monument and I burst into tears. I'm a mess. Whee!

It's gorgeous outside, and all I want to do is ride my bike somewhere and read Harry Potter. GAH! I am so in love with myself right now. I think I'm in the euphoric stage of my PMS.

Even though I very seldom get my period, I still get PMS every month. I'll spend a couple of days totally digging the world, totally squishy and horny and sensitive to the touch, then I'll wake up one morning and I'm like, "Bwaaah! I'm a bloated, heinous, terrible person!" Thing is, I sort of revel in it. Then, of course, I (sometimes) start bleeding, and everything goes to shit.

I'm sorry, you can convince me to love the moon goddess and beat tribal drums and grow out my armpit hair, but you will never convince me that spewing juicy blackred hunks of uterine lining out of my hoo-ha for four days is an experience to be embraced.

I'm hungry.

Anyway ... So, I had this strange dream last night. I was with my sister, who was hugely pregnant. My sister, however, has almost no body fat and is in awesome shape, so her pregnant belly was strangely defined. You could see the outline and indentation of where the baby's head was, and I swear that at one point, I saw it swivel it's little fetus eyes around to look at me. Anyway so the baby is born about a month early, and at first, everyone is trying to convince it not to come out, to go back in because it's not quite done developing. Baby was having none of it.

Has anyone ever read a story by Ray Bradbury, about an extremely psychic kid who had the power to make anything happen just by thinking about it? When he was born, the doctor looked into his eyes, saw his power, and was about to kill him, when the newborn baby decided to "think" him into nonexistence. The kid's eyes were really piercing and creepy.

Well, my sister's tiny little baby had eyes like that. I could tell right from the beginning that the kid was a genius, and we immediatly became very close. The baby (I don't think it had a gender, but it might have been a girl) learned to crawl before she could even hold up her head, and I'd spend all day hanging out with her, following her around, seeing what else she could do. I just kept saying to my sister, "She's so smart! She's so cool! She looks right in your eyes when you talk to her!" I honestly don't think that my sister had much of anything to say, though. Maybe she was still recovering from giving birth. It was never specified who the father was, but for all the time I spent with the baby, I might as well have been her mom, and I get the impression that my sister was ok with that. A little saddened, though. Everyone knew she didn't really want the baby, but it bummed her out that her baby had formed such an immediate bond with me.

All in all, it was a happy dream: just me enjoying my down time with my sister's superfreak baby.

(I've discovered that I can usually reason my way out of really stressful dreams. I'll realize in the middle of the dream that I couldn't possibly be in the situation the dream is depicting, and then I just sit back and watch the rest of the dream, like it's a highly interactive movie. People will still talk to me in the dream, and things will still happen to me, but I know that I'll be waking up soon, so it's no big deal.)

I fucking love kids. They fascinate me. I'd like to start babysitting some weekends, maybe, pick up some extra cash. Kids are fucking maniacs. Love them. Babies, though ... can you think of anything more powerful than a baby? Wrapped up in that one, tiny, uncorrupted, 8 pound package is everything that that little person is going to become. It just blows my mind. Not that life is pre-destined, necessarily, but all of your choices ultimately spring from your own self, which I believe is intact from the moment you are born.

Sorry. Hormones are making me nesty, I think. Too bad my uteris doesn't seem to know it's a uteris.

~ Last Five Entries ~

Moths, and Relative Nonsense - 08.18.05

I Finally Have Internet Access in my Bedroom. But, No Ashtray. - 08.09.05

Here I Am - 08.02.05

One-Armed Paper Hanger Earns her Wings - 07.29.05

Sugar & Lemon - 07.28.05

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BUY JEN'S BOOK! BUY IT! DO IT!

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BUY DEAN'S BOOK, TOO! YOU KNOW YOU WANNA! SERIOUSLY.

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