Oh vegas. How my feet do ache! How many interesting people are here. So many wonderful lights.

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creepy men that have recently hit on me: 1. the toy-joy boy 2. the bus driver 3. the homeless man by the movie theatre 4. fellow bus rider when the bus had broken down, also possibly homeless (this does not reflect well on me) creepy ways said creepy men hit on me(respectively) 1. "do you go to barton springs often? you have this very distinct earthy smell" 2. hands me a bus pass I did not pay for. It reads: Lunch? no (yes). when? where? 3. "god told me to come and tell you that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen" (me: who? god? neverheardofhim) 4. him: May I? I'll walk with you. me: I am going to ride my bike. reasons why today made me mad: 1. baby projectile vomiting 2. a two year old. just being two. 3. being a nanny for a family with a retired dad. 4. how i was 20 minutes early and the bus was 10 minutes late 5. The automated lady who is supposed to help me: "I'm sorry, I did not understand what you said. I'm sorry, I did not und...
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All caught up!

10/30 dreamed again. tonight I dreamed of making muffins and babies. I told you (unexpectedly) that you were the only man I'd ever want to make babies with and you told me I was beautiful every day for two-hundred-sixty-six days. we named our children Sweetbelly and Stickylove and when they were outside, we kept them in fruit trees and when they were inside we kept them in our arms. This is how they never learned the feet/ground rules. Then, when we loved too much, we would have to go check on the tomatoes. dreamed again. we didn't have a dishwasher, so that I could take my time with all those muffins. I smiled and told Sweetbelly to be careful. She had jam on her face and it was scorpion season; so then you wrote poetry about scorpions and jam--about sweet tomatoes and muffins. and when it was late at night I would wake and find you rocking Stickylove and fatherhood carefully in your arms--the way my mom used to find dad. Lost in that rocking chair; and then I would lov...
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The Lost Years

(are these good enough for you, April? cos I am not convinced) 5/30 I wrote the start of a book about vaginas and four letter words and starvation and war. I won't finish it. I watched a movie about relationships. I won't finish those either. I wrote the start of a poem it goes like this: I was born a winter baby all inconvenience, ice and cold. 6/30 List of things viewed from the seven windows of the sun room: (Giddings Street, Chicago) 1. two ladies, young in appearance, wearing red jeans. 2. one squirrel, crosses the road, refuses a tree, scampers about the neighbors gate. I am distracted by a pigeon (who reminds me of a general) and lose track of the squirrel. He has crossed through three windows, reminding me of cartoon panels. 3. the bottom half of a flier, stuck to a tree, flaps in the wind. 4. three small birds (wrens?) land in the grass. Squirrel and Pigeon are there too. 5. tall and lanky man. I am overcome by a desire to marry him. 6. kids running. baby go...
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