Sunday, January 31, 2010

This is just to say:

Today I laughed so hard that I actually peed my pants a little.

I wasn't actually wearing pants, so I had to take off my panties and tights and stuff them in my boots (alao off because I felt weird wearing huge knee-high boots and no panties)

We have fun.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Last night I had the strangest dream

It really could have just been a continuation of the night. Fell asleep on their couch, four blankets, only one small piece of ground beef left on the table from our slightly illegally obtained feast.

We were in a bar. I kept on taking pictures, trying to get the bartender to match poses with the bear cutout moving across the top shelf, like a target at a fairground shooting game, stuck in a hula-la pose, arms waving to one side. Each picture I got made me laugh.

We went upstairs, to the hotel-dormitory above the bar, and started to cook a meal. I saw you, wearing a hairnet very similar to Scary Spice's 90's hair cones. Your girlfriend was stunningly gorgeous and madly sane. You ignored us, even though we had been talking loudly about you. I hoped you didn't hear.

I've lost my friends, and am with a married couple I vaguely know. He's lying on top of me. She's watching.
Now, he is going to lick up your leg, and you're going to enjoy it, she says. She does. He does. I don't, but feign interest as his tongue runs up my thigh, past my hip, beard tracing scratches in my skin.

I go downstairs, to the bar, to discover the bartender has been devoured by a bear.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010


Who even goes to bars alone anymore? Women, I mean. And I don't want to be bothered.
But how horrible would it be if I wasn't even bothered?

Maybe I will go tomorrow.

Cat is sitting behind me, on the back of the couch. We're not touching, he purrs in my ear. He never purrs like this, alone, without me. I feel his weight shift, he comes closer to me, hums in my ear, then moves away from me. Still purring. Cat, I cannot understand how your happiness is so independant from mine.

I want to get a drink. I know the dive bar, motorcycles in front, dimly lit, long hilly road, at least a half hour away. Or the one in the downtown boondocks, Christmas lights strung up year-round.

Maybe I'll go to the strip club, where there are rumors of wooden legs. All of these places are far, near naval bases, men my age only knowing a completely different life.

The cat crawls over my arms, ignoring my typing, up my arms, and starts to lick my ears, never silent, resting on my tattoo, claws gently digging into my shoulder.

Monday, January 4, 2010


Notes: Things to write about later
-Thomas moving in
-Why I am so angry at the Good Man who Once Plunged my Shit, and cannot get over something that really has no effect on me
-grad school grad school grad school. Or better yet, actually write my grad school essay