okay, so. Diary. right.

So yesterday my nine-year-old sister said "gay" to me. And, get this.

She was telling me a story about Mom having taken her and Hayden to Wal-Mart the day before, and while they were there, Hayden saw one of this classmates. Hayden waved to him and then said to Mom, "That's Eric. I love Eric." and Chrissy turned to Hayden and said, "You love him? What are you, gay?" and Mom said, "hey. No gay jokes."

That's the story Chrissy told me.

And I said to her, do you even know what that means?

She said, it means lesbian.

I grinned and said, if you're a girl and you're gay, you're a lesbian.

What if you're gay and you're a boy, she asked.

I explained that, well, there were some bad words for gay boys, but not any that were like "lesbian". And she asked me why there were bad words for them, and I said, I don't know, baby. Some people just hate other people for no reason.

And she shrugged and said, "well, I'm gay."

I choked on my gatorade.

I said, "are you."

She said, "yes. I love Rachel."

I said, "oh. well-- Cool."

She said, "Yeah."

Tonight I'm taking her to the Aaron Carter concert for her birthday. She made me promise not to dress like a boy.

***

So I got my hair cut today. in this really artsy place called the AVEDA Natural Alternatives Salon & Spa. yeah, it's a spa, very frilly, but don't laugh. This place is chock full of beautiful smell-good women who want to run their hands loving over my neck. or, to run their hands over my neck with professional detachment. Whatever.

like, I think I'm really into this. Like this could be my thing. Nurses; prostitutes; hair stylists. This is where I'm gonna get my action.

my brief, emotionless, expensive action.

But, dude. They put this smell-good stuff on my head. My head smells really good. Like if it were concievable at all to have a log cabin on the beach, that's what my head smells like. Good-smellin' head!! Surely that's fair exchange for authentic intimacy.

Are we allowed to complain about self-imposed celibacy? yes!

***

My father turned to me and said, "The euphoria structure is almost infintely flexible"-- and it occured to me that programming language is post-modern Kabbalah.

***

I have been translated wrong.

There are moments when

I catch myself laughing and

force myself barefoot.

--Alestar