Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote:

"The face of all the world is changed, I think."

It's Wednesday morning. I slept two hours too long. So, now I have to recover from that, and figure out what I'm going to do today.

My mother-- who is no longer speaking to me-- accuses me of only focusing on short-term goals, but that's not true. The truth is that all my goals are massively long-term. It's today that I'm having a problem with.

I can feel myself becoming pissy in preparation for this weekend. I hate politics, and I hate the word "vagina". I'm unsure about travel-- me-- because for the next one hundred and one nights, I am uninsured.

Oh, hey. I just thought of something that I need to do today. I need to go to Kohl's to return some clothes. Which means that I will leave some kind of cash. Twenty bucks, maybe. Which I could use to buy gas for this weekend.

--I'm going to Devon's Mecca, North Carolina, to Daisy's school which Annwyn also attends, to see them perform in the Vagina Monologues. I'm taking Chad with me. God bless Chad.

I'll have to see how much gas I can afford before deciding whether or not to travel north to visit Dorina. Maybe I can bum some gas money offa her, huh? Fair exchange, right-- ten bucks for my shining, melancholic face. Totally.

Of course, in order to take the clothes back to Kohl's, I have to call my mother and ask her where the reciept is. Which means that I have to talk to my mother.

Wish I didn't have to deal with this bullshit. I mean, okay. Let's play unhappy domestic computer programmer's advocate and say that, yes, I have ruined my life. And somehow my parental units not talking to me is going to make that better? Is going to give me hope for the future?

Well, but. Whatever. That's their life, their day. This is mine.

I need to find out how old Michelle Trachenburg is, so I know if it's alright to have a crush on her. She's probably, like, fifteen. I'm such a pedophile.

Oh, and-- speaking of crushes, I wanted to recommend a story to you. The Same Inside, at Helen's Puppies In a Box. Chris Kirkpatrick wakes up a woman.

"I called my mom, you know, and she just said it. happens. sometimes."

Is it bizzare? Quite. Is it hilarious? Yes. Is it touching and, shit, almost believable? Wow, yeah. Go for it. Helen's a narrative genius. I read this-- and then I read an Angel/Wesley story by Te, and I was all, was is this, this is nothing. So.

~*~

and then there were girls holding signs, suddenly, mysteriously, girls with "I heart Chris" signs, and the only new thing was that their backpacks had little pink triangle pins on them, and maybe they didn't wear halter tops quite as much.

"I have a lesbian fantasy, have I told you that?" Justin said to Joey, watching Chris through the window of the bus; he had been stopped by a girl who wanted to have her picture taken with him.

"Yes," Joey said curtly.

"It's like, there are two girls, you know, and--"

"I know what a lesbian fantasy is, you moron," Joey said. A girl had started to cry, and Chris was patting her shoulder, head bent towards her.

"You think Chris could hook me up?"

"I think you don't know what a lesbian is."

Then, of course, there was the time that Lance stumbled across an Ani Difranco site that had a whole page devoted to Chris.

"The lesbian teenies like you," Theresa said. "If you want to, you're allowed to sleep with one or two of them."

"Terrific," Chris said.

"No one underage," Theresa said.

"I wouldn't--"

"They're probably gonna ask you about it interviews, so say something about people feeling comfortable in their own skins, and discrimination and being yourself."

"That doesn't make a lot of sense."

"Just sit there and smile pretty, then," Theresa said. "That goes for all of you. Especially JC."

~*~

If I were a lesbian teenie, I'd like girl Chris. Oh wait, I am a lesbian teenie. And I do.

I should go shower and call my mom now. Or call my mom and then shower. If my mother doesn't, you know, respond at all-- I'll forget about the clothes and come back here, and decide what to do then.

Also on the agenda for today: develop a spiritual gameplan.

I'll see you. Asalaam Alaikum.

Alestar
***
Because I never leave my room, and people wonder. So I say, "I'm a sorta-writer" and they nod as if they understand.