2004-02-09 - 10:34 a.m.

good morning.

this morning i was slow to the punch. hesitant. maybe it's hormonal, as i have no real reason to be depressed or 'slo'.

btw. that art party turned into quite a night. had a a lit agent contact meet out and also my artist friend and i had to be approriately social and such. it was irritating. then the artist and some art school kids and i went to his friends house, the kind in films. the LA pool, mod style, with a bunch of original warhols and peter baird etc. it was amazing. these two students with us were two of the hottest lesbians i've ever met. i wanted to just stare at them the entire time.

one was mind blowing adorable, but she kept being jealous of the other one paying an ounce of attention to me. strange. strange dynamic. we went to a concert benefit, then i cut out early. they were bumping a bit in the night.

i really miss lizard. she's gone this wk. it's been good for perspective, but i miss my team mate. i would of broken down the night w/ her or she would of been with me and i would of felt very protected.

last night m took me to a coffee house. then we made out again on my van seat. ps: he's very attomically correct, i'm quite happy to discover. should be fun. and he wants to take it slow. which is a real scream. why do i always find this right guys?

he was saying he can't figure out why im with him, he's perplexed. that was flattering and sad. that reminded me of my brother not thinking much of himself and it made me want to be sisterly and nurturing. and here i was silently battering myself over how broken, imperfect i am. how my jeans were pushing too much skin out like side cysts how i'm terrified that my stomache is too chubby and this was a first, i started obsessing on how my boobs were saggy. i've got a nice rind of boobs dear reader friend. and they've always done their job. i never thought much of them. but now it's that thing, when i lay down they fall loftily to the sides, like they are hiding away, pretending to be flat canvass. and he'd have to pull them up to kiss. and i'm not sure if you guys care, if a boob is a boob is a boob and yes i'd desperately like to know, fill me in pls. but we all have to let it go at some point if you settle down, cuz we all sag away as time grows into us. but i was obsessing on how i know his last lady was younger. now he's 25, (i'm 28) so i'm guessing she was 22-23. which is the perfect tit age. and i couldn't let go of it. i felt so much tight body shame coiling in me. i don't know how to reconcile it and i don't know how to love me and i certainly in no stretch of the fucking imagination know how to let someone else touch and love me.

i never have.

will i ever?

i must need therapy. i need a miracle. i need to let go. do i need to move out of this town, or just out of the vivrant loud town screaming in my mind?