2001-06-19 :: 10:31 p.m.

I know what time it is. I am not worried, no. My problem lies in my insecurity and jealousy. I quite simply don't like thinking he's having a blast with her.

Am I twelve right now? Yep. Which is why I'm going to eat a pint of Ben & Jerry's, watch a terrible girlie movie on the Love Network, and cry it all out.

Wait.

Not
before
I
dance!

Sing it, Strokes!

Ruby bought a new bed, in other, less athletic news. She was sleeping on a mattress on the floor and now she has a beautiful double bed with an actual box spring and headboard. She needed a bed to reflect how classy she really is. And now she has one. And bravo for her, I say!

"This now officially marks the end of all sex for me," she said. I told her she's being ridiculous, but I guess it's kind of like tattooing your love's name onto your ass; it's a surefire sign you're going to break up shortly thereafter.

I wish Ruby luck. And she knows I will be expecting the full details of the New Bed Christening Cock Report.

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