Sometimes, life throws you a small mercy. Like when you spend three days miserable that something didn’t work, and you really wanted it to, and then you finally get it off your chest and… you get called a cunt and all seems well enough with the world. So there. 🙂 (Andrew did not seem to approve of me being called a cunt. Whatever, buddy. Do you think I’d even talk to him if I thought he meant it? Thanks for the credit.)

Dana sent me a link to this: http://81vaginas.blogspot.com/ and I am finding it fascinating.

This afternoon I scribbled this down. Not sure when and where it came from, or where it might go.

Perusing some blog. A little entertainment after a long, boring day; a friend had sent her the link. Her nose felt vaguely runny, so she wiped her hand across it, not really thinking. Only problem was, her hand came away streaked wet and red.

Chez Miscarriage is done, at least in its current incarnation. That depresses me. I don’t know jack about infertility, but the woman’s funny and can write. The net needs more of that.

Sherry pointed out to me this weekend that attraction is not a single entity. I know this. I was obsessing, and forgot. There is physical attraction, which is basic, recognizable, and important, but wanes. And there is intellectual attraction, which is more rare, and more powerful, I think, but also easily mistaken at certain times for physical attraction. One must be cautious. And only the greatest and most intoxicating of relationships, the true fairy tales, have both. Unfortunately, they are as uncommon, I think, as they are glorious. It is, of course, the privilege of the lonely to seek for glory. As Mr. Proust said, “Only that which is absent can be imagined”.

I am almost to the point where I have to give up my favourite jeans. Last week at the Humane Society I was running around and a bit sweaty and had things jammed in my pockets, and they were nearly falling off. This morning I was not running around and not sweaty and had nothing in my pockets and they were nearly falling off. As I do not own any boxers and am not 14 I cannot attempt to wear them without risk much longer. Besides, except for the first time I tried them on in the store, they’ve always stretched out quickly after washing, and been a bit baggy. They make me look dumpy. It’s nice to finally not want dumpy anymore.

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