Nico's out again. Although I'm still scared of my neighbor shooting him. He bolted out the door when M. left. Yeah, she was over here late. I tuned her out. God, it's like I have a girlfriend I can't break up with.
Watching "Boys on the Side" on TV. Tried to read "Uncle Tom's Cabin" today, but it beat me. What a melodramatic waste of space. Sorry for those enthusiasts. But quite honestly, even though a black woman in the time of abolition wrote it, Twain and Faulkner did it better.
Well, that might be the most un-feminist thing I've ever said. I'm so proud of myself.
Meeting with my "COMMITTEE CHAIR" tomorrow. It sounds so scary to me (see: I hear it in capital letters). He's either going to fuss at me for being behind, or I will wow him with my ability to embellish and bullshit. I'm hoping for the latter.
Philly's having sympathetic, or empathetic, PMS. And I want to feng shui my bedroom this weekend. Go figure.
I hate February. It's my least favorite month. Even though January 24th is the day when "the most people commit suicide," or "the most depressing day of the year," I hate mid-Feb. It's so boring. And intimidating.
Valentine's Day? No, black-whatever-day-of-the-week-it-is.
Feeling a bit dark these days. I want to name the 10th planet.
I'm going to Disneyworld in a month, and I couldn't be more terrified.
Welcome to the world of non-sequitors. Perhaps I should write a poem . . .
CL