July 12th, 2003


(no subject)

I was having SUCH a GREAT day!

I'm stealing his shirt. So there.Then, around 1p, I fell into a daydream that P died enroute to California. After that, I felt so sick I had to go home.

(I think the former was a symptom of the latter, rather than the other way around. In any case, he's safe and sound on the left coast now.)

I came home and slept with Maxman.

I dreamt about the secret room with the fireplaces that I'd forgotten about, and the huge mansion I own in the university that exists beneath my house.

Stupid ldy forgot to take the patch off again :P

Then I ripped it off and couldn't sleep anymore. I'm dropping down to the 10mg formulation as of tomorrow.

Oh, and I spent three hours getting my hair cut.

As you can no doubt tell, my brain cells have yet to recover from... what was I saying again?

I've heard rumours that I was smrt and even a writer person before this whole non-smoking/romance/play stuff.

I don't believe a word of it.

And I have yet to master the billijean one-handed self-portrait.

The end.

Good night :)
  • Current Music
    I hope I don't have any lines.
rubbah and horns

Where'd that cute fun chick from yesterday go to?

I've been crying all day.

I hate the fucking play. Whee, I'm pretty. Pretty and bored.

Tit/Hip is the second smallest role in the play (with the double/triple roles we're doing). You wouldn't think it, but there it is.

At least I "sleep very prettily."

We didn't have our Obe/The today, so my roles were played to air. I'm wishing I'd not gone. They didn't need me.

Michele moved out today. Wishing I could have helped her instead.

As it is, I just came home to an empty house, after crying outside the theatre for half an hour.

There's no closure. I feel so very alone.

And my hormones are all wonky for some unknown reason. I'm sure that has a lot to do with it.

I'm bleeding, when I really shouldn't be. I'm hoping the pap comes up negative.

It's not a year in my life without a cancer scare, though G-d only knows why.

I should call Paul, but I'm not in much mood for cheeringuppingness, bringing him down, or putting on a false face.

I'm in the mood to run away.

Damn, but I crave a smoke.

I won't though. I won't.

It's why I said crave instead of want. I don't want one.

I don't know what I'll do.

Knowing me, probably suck it up, phone Paul, allow myself to get cheered back up, and then head over to M's new place to help.

Because I'm not really alone, even though I sometimes like to wallow in the belief that I am.

Maybe breaking something will help, too.
  • Current Mood

Um, don't wake me, k?

You know what I'd do if I were there?

No, what would you do?

First, I'd lay you down on the couch. Then I'd sit down on the end of the couch, under your feet, and remove your shoes and socks. Then I'd give you a foot massage-- a really gentle foot massage-- watching your face to make sure I didn't hurt you, or God forbid, tickle you, because that can be like hurting sometimes, and you need TLC. So I'd keep an eye on you to see how we both were doing.

Then I'd get up and gently lift your head, sit down, and put it into my lap. You'd close your eyes, dear, while I rubbed your temples. It would be all that "put your troubles into a big pink bubble and blow it away." You'd eventually fall asleep.

Then my leg would get cramped, and I'd get pins and needles all down my leg, and I'd be all like "ow!" ...but no matter, you'd be sleeping, and I'd be gently rubbing your temples.

Later, you'd wake up, and "[insert funny noise I make when waking here] what time is it, sweetie?" and I'd say "six or seven" and you'd go to get up and make dinner, and I'd say "no, rest, I'll take care of it." And then I'd make you an amazing dinner while you reclined on the couch.

But we haven't any food in.

Even better; I'll order out. What are you in the mood for?

Michele's house is doing great-- her family really got a lot done today. Her house is farther along then mine is!

Someday, I'm gonna do that for my kids. It's hard to try to do everything by one's self, and not nearly as fun.

Soon, Johnny (xso's little bro) will be here, and I'll help him burn some CDs for his graduation from massage school.

If we do that quickly enough, I can take payment in shiatsu or swiss massage tonight.

That's sure to help.

But even a professional massage can't compare to my phone massage.

Colour me appreciative and more than a little amazed.

Whee, Johnny's here! Later, gators!
  • Current Music
    brain hurty