one can't buy rain and mountains and ocean and islands and sunsets and broadway and dear sweet friends like i have here. certainly not to sit in front of a computer for 12 hours by day and sweat my ass off in some lonely faux-adobe apartment by night. my poor plant, phil, would die and i'd havta replace her with some creepy cactus or something. phil and i savor the rain and the gloom.

the troupe and i drove up north to a fun-park. we can't seem to get enough of getting into bumper cars and smashing eachother, so we travelled to a place with schnazzy go-karts. we fucked shit up on the track. at one point they had to pull christine's little kart off of tc's and we almost had a tiny pile-up. christine's never driven a car before and it gives me great pleasure to see her all wild-eyed and grinning with road rage. wheeee.

...

i'm never sure that i'm doing the right thing. when i wear my heart on my sleeve it gets caught in every door. if i hide myself in a box then the dark and scaryness of it lasts too long. i convince myself that everything is as it should be and then it's not enough. i disbelieve and then i lose everything just as it becomes clear to me. i could walk around in these circles, for miles, and stumble in the same spot every time.

dreams with cartoon characters in them: smurfs, voltron, carebears. realizing the morning after that i should have called the night before. finding the time to sew. burying my feet into sand. ginger cookies. tangled in a johnny-jump-up. sniffing a letter. tape for band-aids.