top secret diary
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Friday, December 20, 2002
Tonight there was a sleeping baby on my chest, very warm; I was soaking up all the baby I could, hoping it would fix me for a while, last me another three or four months, cool the urge to procreate. It is a pure, raw battle of mind versus biology at this point, a gritty battle, with hormones playing dirty: one where I alternately grind my teeth at the sound of screaming infants in restaurants, praising myself for not catching pregnant at fifteen like the rest of the girls in my family, and then end up pawing small clothes in stores, tagging them as items my kids are going to be motherfucking adorable in.
"I will give you two," I tell my mother tonight, holding the baby, the hot, sweet-smelling, quiet baby, and thinking that this is the most I want in life, maybe; "I will give you Jack and Scout," I told her.
"I'll be damned if I have a grandson named Jack. I'll call him John, you watch and see," she spits back.
Give the gift of old Weezer to the ten and younger crowd in your family this holiday season. I sure am!
I worked on a puzzle today, being all of the 70+ years that I am, and it features Medusa. Except in it, she is a beautiful white girl, with slut pink lips and colored braids instead of snakes for hair, and at the end of the braids there are icons from most world religions and cultures -- Chinese dragons, Vishnu, Buddha -- and then, inexplicably, nestled between some sort of Mayan or Aztec god, Marilyn Monroe.
Wednesday, December 18, 2002
I do not currently have any concrete plans as to when I'll be seeing TTT, or how many times, or with whom, or when the first virgin TTT experience will take place, the one that will leave me crying and breathless and fucked up. So kindly KEEP YOUR FUCKING MOUTH SHUT ABOUT IT, or I will punch you! In the mouth. And break your teeth. It will be difficult to spoil the movie for me when you're swallowing blood and enamel, won't it? Yes, I think so. Carry on.
Tuesday, December 17, 2002
Making pedx is harder than it looks. Do I want to go through all the poems and change link colors and remove the photograph? No. Do I want to learn CSS? No. Do I want to make thumbnails of a collection of pictures I no longer think are all that great? Surely not. Do I love pedx like I love my own mother? YES.
Pedx is not just my website, returning in full force. It's the darkest half of my soul. (I would say "the evil part," but we all know there's really no distinction to be made between the good and evil parts of my cold dead heart, only just degrees of sin and badness.)
Eventually I will stop making the boring posts describing the lack of action in creating pedx and actually get around to the creation process itself. If God had a week, you can give me at least two. I'm slightly less powerful.
Monday, December 16, 2002
Everything is shabby right now, and there isn't a damn thing to read or look at, which I am non-apologetic for. I have been reading gay porn online instead. I have been failing courses. I have been growing a dagger-like fingernail, which gouges my thighs and hips every time I pull my pants up after peeing. I have been fleeing livejournal to return to my cold, burnt hearth.