The weather has been so incredibly gorgeous and terrible with its gorgeousness. I went once again to my park with its cougars & flowering trees on Monday, and I'd just turn a corner & get hit with a wall of scent, or little vapors of fragrance would slip carelessly into my nostrils, and then the streets of my neighborhood were warm and steaming with people & food & hope and this sudden profusion of leaves, and goddamnit I said, goddamn the sex and the privateers and the alien races, because I want to be out in this very evanescent world. God.

Today I was forced to go to my friend Polly's new apartment in a beautiful chicly bohemian neighborhood & I coud have just died of jealousy. Oh green snake in my entrails, I said, calm down and let me eat this pad thai & talk about the future on a carpet. This other friend of ours was there & all she wanted to talk about was money, and how she wants to sleep with this guy who won't let her kiss him.

Other news: I had some friends over last night to make exquisite corpses & one of them (friends, not corpses) turns out to have dated that guy who said I have regular features, which I thought was delightful. She, too, had regular features. We want to play tricks on him but I don't know if I play tricks anymore, not since I convinced poor Lucid Billy from that ska band that I had truly turned into a chicken from giving him oral pleasure. O the poor kid, he is entirely in an institution right now.

And finally: I will steal a page from Laura Redcloud's e-book & say: I would love to get comments if you give 'em. All this sitting-hunched-up-in-my-apartment-typing-erotic-fiction-into-the-wee-hours-and-not-getting-drunk-with-anyone-and-missing-cherry-blossom-festivals is very bad for morale. I'm not usually someone who needs to feel loved, but.