Nothing like Chicks to take your mind off dicks. I have a friend who has helped me immensely this weekend to overcome an interest that has plummeted like the stockmarket. We watched sexy sci-fi dorks "orgasm" from the Water of Life, while we spontaneously erupted in "Chicks before Dicks, man", accompanied by "Yeah, dude. So fuckin' true." She asked me to come over to predrink with her and her housemates before trapsing about Uptown Waterloo. I don't know how she knew, but she knew that was what I needed. She told me more than I should know and I tried to show her that I would not judge her in matters of the heart or libido. We drank until sentiments slurred like our words. I made a "Supreme Nerd" button to give to the dorkiest nerd at the "Nerd" party held down the street from her which we crashed in a style only 3 21 year old women can get away with. Well, at least they can get away with it at a UW party. *Sausage Fest!!* She laughed from the sidelines as I pushed her housemate up the living room half pipe in a wheelchair with skulls on it. She joked with the "Supreme Nerd" who didn't seem to understand that she didn't have a half-pipe in her living room. We expressed outrage at the "popo" for breaking up such a sweet party and yelled at a boy streaking in front of the cops. We sat on her front porch as it was infiltrated by the streaker and his fellow party goers who didn't want to stop the party, and laughed as they tried to eat her porch. We made worried faces when the man in the tux t-shirt started yelling "They're lying to you, poisoning your mind!" to no one in particular, knowing that her housemates would be woken up. We marvelled at their exit as they rolled off the porch, opting to not take the stairs, making it all seem so right.

It's nights like that one that make you want to fall in love with a woman, even if she'll only break your heart. Moments. *sigh*

The problem is that I can't hide anything. An old friend used to say that the worst expression to see on my face was no expression at all, because then I didn't care, and there is nothing worse than a person consumed with passion suddenly overtaken by apathy. I don't mind showing the anger or the hate, but the "like" is becoming a bit of a problem. See, there is this man (and such a man) that I'm ... interested in, but I can't keep my big mouth shut about it. It wouldn't be so bad if he was a big mouth like me, but he's not. He's sweet and kind and mildly introverted and I'm afraid I'm going to fuck up and say something I shouldn't about some conversation because I want everyone to know how sweet this guy is, and how much I dig his crazy scene. I'm afraid that something that was said to me will pop out of my mouth and suddenly, I'm a stupid loud mouth who talks too much. (Oh, no. Justified fear sucks.) And here I am, talking about it again, but I hope it is just an expression of my fear of saying too much. I was talking to a friend today about the woman he went on a date with recently and he said that she is a very private person so he didn't want to say anything. It's moments like that one that make me realize how much of a buffoon I am. I decided that if he should *silent prayer* ask to see me again (I asked first, anus, so don't think I'm waiting passively for a chance, when I was the first mover. Oooo, St. Augustine wrote about the "first mover" and that was God. I'm the Goddess of Looooouuuve. (Yup, that's right. Goddess of Love)), I shall tell no one. (Oh, man. I don't know if I can do it, but I shall try...)

Diesel Sweeties, the comic that I like so much, has an ad in the newest issue of Bust, which I loved like Baby Jesus, only with Robots and Underwear T-shirts. Soooooo good.

I live in a theatre that never runs good scripts. It seems as though my house is a constant place of melodrama, much to my distaste. I would much rather everything was calm and serene, so I could sit and knit or type a blog without constant interruptions about ... well, men (or boys depending on whose what is in question.) I have figured out the ultimate way to get rid of my wonderful flatmates: compare their situation to politics. For example, I told my flatmate not to "bend over backward like Bush for big oil." She rolled her eyes at me and promptly exited the vacinity. Ahhhhh, sweet, crap-loving politics, you serve me well.

He's a corner-of-the-eye star, in my peripheral until I lose the lights of the city. He's country driving after too much urban. He's BC living. He could grow a beard, but he's already mysterious. He makes me smile, a corner-of-my-eye star.

"I don't know you that well, but it don't take much to tell
either you don't have the balls or you don't feel the same..."
- Ani D, "overlap"

I'm sorry I haven't written in a while. Freak shows needs stars, and there was a shortage on hairspray. Vagina were (are) good, BoD is shaping up. I wish too hard for a chance meeting with what I won't run into when wishing bleeds orange. I probably won't post again for awhile. There really aren't enough freaks and geeks for the shows I need.

Man, you have to come see the Vagina Monologues! It's gonna be SOOOOOOO sweet. Monday, March 8th and Tuesday March 9th at 7:30 in the Turret. Tickets are $10 at the C-Spot or at the door. I'd suggest you get them soon because they are going FAST!

In anger, I will do stupid things. We all do stupid things. A year and a half ago I got in a big fight with a friend of mine and posted something I shouldn't have. Luckily, I realized the next day that I should remove it, so I did. Now, I'm a much busier woman with a lot less time to check, or think about, her blog page, so stupid things sit for much longer. My friend Tudor and I were talking about how friends can get angry over what is written here. I had a friend stumble across this page yesterday and he said to me that he felt intrusive reading what I had written. I forget sometimes that I am not writing for myself. Often I will write something that I think is well-written so I'll post it, whether it's appropriate or not. It is well known that I have no sense of propriety. I accepted an award at the fr!nge oscars last night to which I yelled "To the CUNT". No sense of propriety. Anyway, I don't intend to "out" anyone, so I never post names. I deleted the offending post because there was an outing the in comments. I have my problems, but I try not to make them other peoples. My apologies for the unnecessary bleeding that came from the post that is deleted. I've never been good with words. ;)