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Baths are marvelous.

are you fucking kidding me?

sorry for the early morning profanity, but it had to be said. a few weeks ago, i wrote an entry about how i'd been had by the last mosquito of the summer. i was wrong. last night i was bitten again, and i discovered my assailant clinging to the ceiling. it was so full of my blood that it actually seemed to be hanging by its two front legs, the sheer weight of its abdomen pulling it downward. asshole. i creamed it with walter's copy of "the watchmen." thanks for letting me borrow that, by the way.

the thing is, i was up until maybe 2 or 3 doing some writing, and i set my alarm for 6:30. in that brief window, in my sixth floor apartment, through the cracks in my aircon in my one narrow window, this mosquito infiltrated my room and attacked me. i'm convinced that the mosquitoes of the world have a personal vendetta against me.

so be it. the watchmen and i are ready for you.

material girl

I spent the entire day walking around manhattan searching for pieces of my halloween costume. for dinner i ate japanese bar food and a gigantic frozen cocktail. then i went to american apparel and watched aslan count lightbulbs. and finally aslan and i came up to east harlem where it was raining. no, not raining. flooding. it was flooding so hard that my shoes turned into bathtubs and i was afraid we might drown on the way to my apartment. it sucked.

But then, we watched hours and hours of 80s music videos on some new york city weirdo channel. blondie, tom tom, new edition, cone-boobed madonna, still-kind-of-black michael jackson, bob marley. it made the day awesome. one love, one heart, let's get together and feel alright. how can you not love life and the world and all things everywhere all the time after watching that video?

oh, and prince is sexy. black eyeliner, leather flared pants, and belly baring spandex tops never looked so damn manly.

don't have to be rich to be my girl
don't have to be cool to rule my world
ain't no particular sign i'm more compatible with!!!!!!
i just want your extra time and your

da na na na na na na na na

KISS <3

hermetic

i've decided not to post poetry on my blog. after leaving it up for a few days, i can't shake the weird feeling it gives me, like i've posted a picture of myself in my underwear for everyone to see.

it's not that i don't like being read. i just can't get into the swing of blogging poetry i guess. makes me anxious. but i've started working on something new, and i'm kind of in love with it. if you'd like to read, let me know and i'd be happy to share.



... poetry/ is what he thought but did not say

What he thought :: Heather McHugh



happy hump day :)

stranger danger

I woke up late this morning, so by the time I got to the track Kara was already on her way back to the apartment. It was still pretty dark, and there was only one other person running and another man stretching in the cool down area. I ran for about half an hour, and the man was still there when I went to stretch. What freaked me out about it was that a) I was alone, b) I've seen him on other mornings, not always exercising, but just hanging around the track, and c) I watch too much Law & Order.

Kara has 3 tricks to feel safe at the track:
1: Always leave from a different gate than the one you came in.
2: Vary the days you go every week, so no one can pick up your pattern.
3: Wear a hat.

I feel like the third one is a little overboard. But the guy said hello to me as I was stretching, and I said good morning, but didn't make eye contact or smile so he wouldn't think I wanted to converse or have anything to do with him. Maybe he was just being friendly. Maybe I'm just crazy and acted rudely. But as Kara said, you can never be too careful.

Now I'm sure this seems extremely unfair to a lot of you males out there, and I've heard complaints from my own guy friends about girls who label the entire male gender as misogynists or rapists. I see how that could be frustrating. But to those who make the argument that it's unfair, or even a form of reverse sexism, I have to say... suck it up. Seriously. You might call us paranoid or bitchy, but consider why we feel this way. Women grow up learning that we can NEVER be too careful, we should ALWAYS be aware of our surroundings. There are stories on the news almost every day of rape victims, victims of domestic violence, and sex trafficking of young girls. The whole world tell us to watch our backs-- keep your eyes on your drink at all times, choose well-lit streets to walk down, don't go out alone past a certain hour depending on where you live, avoid dark corners, don't ride in the empty train car or the one with just one other man inside, the list goes on and on. We know that we shouldn't distrust all of you. We know you don't all deserve to share the blame or guilt. We know that men are also victims of crime. But at least you don't have to hesitate about going out at 9pm in a less-than-spectacular neighborhood to pick up toilet paper or pre-plan how you'll get home safely or who's house you'll stay at after a party. So I'm sorry if our paranoia strikes you as unfair, or makes you uncomfortable. But when feeling safe is never a given and we are constantly aware of the possibility of danger, the stress starts to wear down sometimes. So cut us some slack. And when we insist on traveling in packs to the bathroom, understand that it's a survival technique and not just us talking shit about you while we pee and fix our make up.

Kidding.






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