March 2004 Archives

I may be having the Best Hair Day of the Decade, but at the same time I feel really weird today. I'm kind of hot and freezing to death, all the while with that numb head and chest aura. Maybe my head is numb because my hair is so good?

I love spring, when it's rained overnight and you're driving in the morning, and the sky is somewhat charcoal, denoting more rain to come. The trees have wet bark black as pitch, and the leaves are luminous green, exploding onto the scene like they're all lit up, as if to say, "Hey Look at me! I was born to awe you and be appreciated!"

I am hypnotized by beauty.

"...sometimes, you have to forget about what you thought you were and just accept who you are."

The Ides of March. Today is the day when I usually gather friends and family to load up all my stuff and plant it in a new apartment. My mom said last year that everyone would go on vacation this March to avoid my Moving Day.

Today I'm not doing that. One day last summer, Erik stood in my living room, among my truly awesome collection of Rubbermaid containers, and said to me, "When we get married, this 'being ready to move at a moment's notice thing' is gonna end."

And in order to meld our belongings into one style, we tossed a bunch of stuff and went shopping. But, God bless him, he just agreed with everything I wanted. There's a garage sale in two Saturdays to get rid of the superfluous stuff.

It wasn't just the Jews. It was every single, flogging one of us. Who's your Daddy?

I know somebody who thinks Martha is hot. And she's, like, 62. If she has to do time, I hope she gets in at Eglin, in Fort Walton Beach, Florida. That's supposed to be the best place to go to prison in The States, according to MSN.

I sincerely hope I never have to go to prison. And I don't think it's right to send an old woman, in her sixties, to the Big House. A prison situation could prove cruel and unusual to someone like Martha, who I'm guessing is even more obsessive-compulsive than I am.