Just when you thought it was safe to comfortably enjoy being alone, all your collective past demons rear their ugly heads in one giant wave of WTF. The universe is throwing things in this general direction that continually serve to illustrate one point, and one point only – my heart is to be kept under glass like a Victorian curiosity under a hand-blown cloche from Denmark. How did I ever believe any of the lies that issued forth from your lips like car exhaust from a bumper to bumper in a mid-July heatwave? I suppose it was for the sake…

Trust in me, just in meShut your eyes and trust in meYou can sleep safe and soundKnowing I am around Slip into silent slumberSail on a silver mistSlowly and surely your sensesWill cease to resist Trust in me, just in meShut your eyes and trust in me

And I’m too tired to keep going, but can’t rest now because I’ll tumble into the abyss. Ya know what I’m saying? When I was little, one of the most marvelous things I could buy with my allowance, second only to sea monkeys (which I still think were a farce) were these incredible little sponge figures that would expand to nearly four times their original size when you added water to them. After that, they were pretty much useless. They got soggy, and kind of boring. The real thrill was watching them grow, and seeing just how far they could…

helloo? is anyone there? because on saturday night when i’m home alone, it’s just so hard to be sure… but this is an exercise that i need to perfect, isn’t it? and then i either graduate to the perfect blend of domestic/hedonistic bliss with fat babies and smiling dogs in tow, or gin swilling spinsterhood where pretty pool boys tell me i use great eye cream on a daily basis. expectation will ruin any party, but we do it to each other all the time. you expect that because i am extremely sensual that every opportunity for sexual exploration will…

Who doesn’t love to wake up to a vigorous game of chase? 6:30 am today felt like a jolly old British farce. I was mostly asleep, and certainly alone, and Toulouse (my lover boy of the four-legged black cat variety) was curled up next to me. Toulouse is ten, and has been ten since I’ve known him. When I adopted him, I wanted a cat who knew a thing or two about life. I thought he’d be a little cool and aloof, and that we’d exist happily without getting into each other’s way, but as it turns out he’s affectionate…