I got home from nineties night before 1, I think, but went to bed just after 2 ( Read more... )

This is how we know we're not unhappy: I dreamt that I had everything I ever wanted, and when I woke up, I did not feel scathing bitter disappointment. Granted there were those boys trying to have me killed in the dream, but the police had just about cracked that case. Maybe it wasn't everything I ever wanted, but at the time it seemed like it. I ( Read more... )

I forgive me and accept me for who I am. Who I am includes what I want. What I want is okay to want. It's not anti-feminist. It doesn't make me just like them--I'm still me. It's okay to have really high standards. It's even okay to want something and never get it. I accept me.

Okay--good talk.

 I'm caught between incentives. If I make it longer my lazy friends will take even longer getting around to reading it; but if I don't make it longer, then it's a "novella". Blechh. And what I'm actually doing is making it just longer enough that no one will bother reading it but it'll still be too short to be novel-length. What the hell, May, what ( Read more... )

Ohhhhh bejesus, the stuuuupid things people do with their pets, the stupid questions they ask! How do small animal people handle it? I'm already about to stab my eyes out with a spork and these are just friends and family!

In a recent prospective study with n = 2, 100% of Israeli-owned restaurants in Brooklyn provided better service when the wait staff knew in advance that the customer spoke Hebrew. Significant changes were noted both in eye contact to non eye contact proportion of communication time, and in the rating of overall friendliness on a subjective scale of ( Read more... )

The five o'clock diner has elevated bar island tables instead of one continuous bar. I am sitting at one of them, facing the window, on a thick steel bar stool. Across the main road is a side street. A couple of houses down that side street is a boxy blue Victorian. I sit and stare at the blue house ( Read more... )

after an edifying three hour visit to the museum of natural history, I've decided that rather than be alone I would like to date a field anthropologist. I would prefer one who carries a sketchpad like Jane Goodall and has a faculty position at NYU, but I'm somewhat flexible. No, no I'm not.

Like most days, I never thought this day would come. Perhaps more accurately, I never thought this DATE would come. It's a maddening dance of irrational psychosis, the way the hours and the numbers go on and on into the future, indefinitely, infinitely. Of course one can draw an arbitrary mark and assume that one will die before 100 years of age, ( Read more... )

I know it's really important to find a job and make money and not starve naked in a gutter, BUT the whole process is hugely inconvenient and terrifying and I'm thinking fondly of the gutter right now.