  Scar-Crossed Lovers (Neko Case - Furnace Room Lullaby, et al) Spoke to Matt just now preparation for the urlLink Pride Parade that kicks off tomorrow morning. The lucky duck is getting to run in the 5k that precedes the parade. While little ol me is relegated to the role of the cripple, unsure of whether the parade route itself will prove too much for my butchered ankle, my scar-ridden back. How did I get so old at only 25? Ive got the vaguely sick feeling in my belly from drinking wine on an empty stomach. Pain is a better diet than any South Beach bullshit.
I havent been able to eat a thing today (hard to swallow when supine). Then again, no exercise and a penchant for pain killing (Guerrilla fighter in a Victorian dress that I am) can lend to love handles that do a lot more to my person than just drive the ladies away. Ok, so Im not fat, just squishy. Id like to return to my athletic past, have that tight, fit body that I used to take pride in. Return to being an athlete just enough to pull off an endorphin high once a day. Once a week?
And here I am projecting wants into the future when I couldnt even sit up this morning. Im feeling too lazy to write my paper. As much as I like to do good work for Prof. Formo, I really /did/ put this course behind me a couple of months ago. You know, after I fucking graduated? Then again, writing a paper on the evolution of lesbian agency in Woolfs novels wont exactly take much effort. Not now that I have the structure securely framed in my mind.
Mrs. Dalloway is trying its best to resurface in this one again, but Im staving it off with all my might. I think Ive done that novel enough. I read some criticism today that posited that Septimus was also gay. Will that fit into a 5-7? No. Was his lover's death in the war the lynchpin to his madness?
<>I talked to Matt about getting a new advisor for the Universitys LGBTSO. He agreed. PAH is useless and actually /detracts/ from the purpose of our gathering with his attitude and unwillingness to support us. We have three or four faculty members coming out to march tomorrow, and no one has heard a word from PAH. About Ritchies suicide, about the direction of the group, about a single goddamned thing that doesnt involve being available for the administrative side of signing his name to validate our autonomous pursuits. We have actual /allies/ at CSUSM.
Who needs the prig? Prig, in the archaic sense, a fop. Prick if you like. Kyles Loud Patrol rolled in from Arizona this evening. These boys 15 year-olds in the bodies of 25 year-olds. They opened the door, coming in /yelling/ both obscenities at each other and at Kyle who wasnt here.
Whatthefuck? Lucky for me, they went out already, leaving a trail of half-emptied suitcases all over my living room behind them. Kyle knows theyre irritating assholes most of the time (yet remains friends with them), so he came into where Im blogging to shut my door and apologize. Sweet of him. Hes so much better than his immature pally-wallys. I dont mind exactly I just know what theyre going to be like when they roll in late tonight with bellies full of liquor.
Like, Kelly woke up the neighborhood last time they were out. Throwing a petty tantrum in the parking lot. This may be a condo my father owns, but ITS A CONDO THAT MY FATHER OWNS! The last thing I want is to alienate my neighbors by being a source of drama. And these folks paid a hell of a lot of money to be living here. Like, this isnt a dormitory, however close to the University we may be.
How Kyle can stand babysitting them the way he does... Im craving a bowl of soup and a crisp mess of greens to ease into the evening. Maybe Bryan will feel similarly and opt out of the greasy burgroid routine. Some hamachi is always good with me, but I spent $80 today already (after $35 at the pump) on things to right my body and mind. Sushi allotments should be woven into my mental health benefits somehow. Oh, and Im back on the prowl for a massage therapist girlfriend. What?!
I have my license too! Reciprocity is the cornerstone of good faith between lovers. God, it felt good to have a pair of warm hands on my body today. Felt like the first time, ladies. True, I giggled when she touched my belly, my face as she pulled the session to a close. But when she put her hand on my chest to connect, I could have lept up into her arms.
I miss being a therapist. It's a spiritual high connecting to people like that... relaxing into the intuition of knowing another's body. Oh boy, oh boy. Bryan just called and is heading ova. And Neko is still blaring out of the speakers. What more could a girl want? 
