I would like to tell you that from here on out there's no point in trying to read anything I write because it's all turning into long boring crap about me me me, and my enemies the birds.
Tuesday, Apr. 26, 2005 - 19:15

I went to bed last night and half of me couldn't breathe, so at work this morning I took two pink pills to clear up my head. Nothing happened. I took two more this afternoon. I thought I was okay, but I got lost on the way home, half a block away from my house.

Today I wanted to write about: school, grad school, bullshit, low self-esteem and gender, linguistics, procrastination and perfectionism, how my potentially deadly combination of low self-esteem, procrastination, and perfectionism made it impossible for me to finish graduate school or did it?, and the weird weird thing that goes on with girls in academia. If any of those things are potentially interesting to you, let me know and maybe I'll try to talk about them in a coherent fashion.

Instead of that, I'm going to talk about: my writing class last night.

It was hilarious! If I was taking it seriously I would have been bored and disgusted, mostly with the pontificating old man who Writes science fiction, he's working on a novel, he's already completed a novel (or many novels), he used the words "infinitesimal" (which I had to look up in order to spell right), "germane" (which I also had to look up, but for the definition as well as the spelling), and "muse". Okay you like those words and use them yourself, it's fine, it's just funny, is all I'm saying. I'm sure he calls it "the Craft" with a capital C, I'm sure he calls himself a Writer with a capital W.

Um, now here's some poettes, I'm totally behind and I'll never catch up, I know.

Poette number 164
Here I come clip clip clop
It doesn't matter that I can't really walk
At least I sound fabulous
And as you can see I'm dressed for success
Do I look silly? Pshaw, not me.
I'm fabulous, accomplished and oh so pretty.

165
Took two pink pills,
didn't get high.
Took two more,
still nothing,
but now there's a tiny UFO
buzzing around me like a fly.

167
Hmm sigh harumph
Nearly nine hours
I've been sitting on my rump.
Hmm sigh harumph
I didn't even get up for lunch
cuz I was talking to my cellmates.

Poette that ends with a question
Oh Billy you look so pretty
with your new shiny bald head
your pointy teeth and your turtlenecks
I'm in love with your sadness too
But Billy Billy how often do you tell the truth
and how often is it lies
and how can you be sad if sadness makes you happy?

Lover you should have come over
Imagine this:
Me, you, the moon, the lake,
a log, our lips,
and a wayward slug.
What made you change your mind,
me or the slug?

(Just so you know, 'lover' is just one of those words that I will never use seriously.)

About the birds
I saw you, you dirty bird
You filthy murderous beast
I saw you, you fat juicy killer
with your red psycho eyes and your greasy brown feathers
I saw you and stepped hard and still you came my way.

This one will get you crying, if you aren't already
Time catches up with even the fastest of dogs.

#483
Tickles the teenage clown and his pet Pickles.

(That is not a poette, you're right. It is a story idea I got on the bus, don't steal it!)