2002-11-16 : The Homeless, Dreams of Broken Lenses and Salma Hayek
Let me just clear something up. I don't hate homeless people. In fact, I defend them to many people who say "ooh....gross...ooh...scary." They are just people down on their luck, and I chat with them and give them money when I have it and they ask for it AND I EVEN had a year long relationship with a homeless person (though he ended up living w/me, so I guess he wasn't homeless except for at the beginning). I just have an extremely sensitive nose and it makes me feel physically sick when someone really STINKS, homeless or NOT. So, there you have it and I don't even know I just wrote any of that (except for I know someone is reading this that accused me of being homeless-hating..and by the way, I accept sincere apologies, if they truly are sincere..and blah fucking blah)

We WERE going to see the Gloryholes for $3 and drink beer and pretend we were hipsters and mouth the wrong lyrics to their songs and move our bodies in a restricted, self-conscious way, but we decided that reading in bed (Jay was actually reading my old books on Wicca that mom brought back to me from Champaign..which I find VERY funny) was much more appealing and I"m loving this book "Kissing The Virgin's Mouth"..except for I don't know spanish and there are alot of spanish words peppering this book, but I can still get the general idea from the surrounding sentence of what the word might mean. I started to fall asleep before 10..with my sweater and cords on, sweating underneath the comforter and red afghan, and I was SO tired but I still made myself change into my owl jammies.

I seem to recall my dream involved my mom, her friend Charlotte, fear of getting in trouble at work because I was in Illinois once again and was missing work, phones ringing that I couldn't seem to find a way to answer, my stepfather being rude, general fighting amongst everyone, and then me walking through an area outside that had people selling their hippie wares on the grass and sidewalks and it was getting dark and I stuck my fingers right through the lenses of my glasses and they splintered and broke the way an eggroll will break apart in my fingers and someone took my glasses and I was fairly blind and stumbling around during twilight and I was informed by a suspicious looking teen that my glasses were in a dumpster but I knew he was luring me into a dangerous situation and I was crawling on my hands and knees in some brambles and I got stuck under a big branch or something and I knew it was all a trick....

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Ya know...I'm sick of always being the one to clean the entire fucking apartment. I asked Jay yesterday to please take his turn and do all the cleaning for once. He agreed to it, but I have a feeling he was lying just to get me to drop the subject. It is really icky and messy in here.

I can't decide whether to actually BAKE a dessert for tommorrow's bookclub or take the preferable, lazy way out and go down to Central Market and purchase a fancy, delicious dessert (but yet pay much more money than I would spend to make something from scratch)

I want to go to the Seattle Art Museum and see the Frida exhibit and I also plan on seeing "Frida" the movie ASAP.

Jay had no desire to see the movie until I told him that Salma Hayek was the one portraying Frida. Then he said "Oh, yea..now I really do want to see it." So shallow. I warned him that I think Salma might have the obligatory unibrow and mustache, but he doesn't seem to mind. I must admit that I go to see movies for the beauty of a certain male (Johnny Depp, Jonathan Rhys-Meyers, Jake Gyllenhaal) so I guess we nothing but shallow people, which is just dandy with me.

ok..I'm off to study some more for the cursed GRE. Two weeks..only two weeks from now.