2001-05-04 :: 9:26 a.m.


Poor Ruby. She called me at 11 last night to report the details of her date. And it was a testament to the fact that photos do not necessarily represent the real thing.

"He was four feet tall, with thinning hair, his front tooth was missing, and he was covered from the neck down in tattoos."
"You're joking."
"Sadly, no. And now I have to go to sleep so I can get the image out of my head."

Thus endeth that love affair.

***
Tonight, a date with Tallboy. Tomorrow, a date with the Whorenuns. Trixi suggested some bar on Avenue A, but it was quickly shot down because you totally get the stink eye if you dance. "People act like Sunday dinner in that joint."

***
I had a dream last night that I was living in Paris in a kind of tenement apartment and my kitchen window looked directly onto a terrace and on that terrace was my mother, with bangs, watering plants, in the rain. I remember being scared, for some reason, that she was only visiting and that she didn't live there.
And then I got worried about my dog and went on a search throughout the city to find her. Someone had stolen her and she was in their apartment and I had to break in and steal her back. It was harrowing. And I woke up nauseous, with butterflies in my stomach. But that could have been caused by my alarm clock being set to really bad FM radio.

***
Oooh! I get to ship hazardous materials today! Rock!!

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