Monday, July 08, 2002

Alright kiddies- The first entry really wasn't an entry, but an explanation of how I seem to be hypocritically going against my moral prinicples by posting personal thoughts online. Now I engage full-on hypocrite-mode.
This weekend was a blur of sex, women, rock n' roll, drugs, beer, fireworks, and mayhem. Except the sex, drugs, and mayhem parts, I'm just making that up.
Today I am cranky from lack of 8 hours of complete sleep. I must say, staying up late to talk to Roomy is always worth a tired day, but last night I just stayed up to watch the Sexiest People on VH1. J-lo took first and Shakira second. Monica Lewinsky explained that she really appreciated the way J-lo was curvy and womanly.
Also- I explained the Zapatista movement to Roomy and how owning a tee shirt produced by a neo-marxist commie pro-indian revolutionary group was the funniest thing in the world.
Irony: the difference between what things really are and how they are perceived.


Current Conversation with The Man Who Likes My Eyes

Him: I'm not talking to you anymore. You just think I'm old.
Him: And a gentleman, and I'm neither
Me: Do NOT
Him: niether
Him: How do you spell that?
Me: niether
Me: maybe
Him: That's what I said
Me: I do not think of you as old
Me: I hardly think of you at all

Perhaps a blog is just an extended IM conversation with the world. Perhaps its an illness, but you would think the 150 millys would take care of that business. I have a strange desire to spend the whole afternoon coming up with nicknames for all my friends and telling their stories.

Once upon a time there were two women in one classroom filled with pretentious assholes. One particularly assholey asshole commented that the diagram outlining Durkheim's theory of Suicide looked a lot like a cross. (It was, gentle readers, an x and y axis just like from those good old geometery days). Sarcastic Sally, unable to resist the opening God had just given her, felt "Look who is so goddamn smart!" fly out of her mouth, almost breaking the sound barrier with its icey tone and underlying personal critism. The class erupted in laughter, Sally blushed in confusion, pride, and guilt, Asshole shut up, and from across the room, Shoshanna, the non-princessy punk rock jew with red hair locked eyes and a smile with Sally and love bloomed forever more.