I had lots of fun tonight. With a guy. And that's all you get to find out. 
I am now chatting with three of my favorite ladies, and two of them have the same name as me. Is that a weird coincidence, or am I just really that conceited?
I spent all day today reading sex-related blogs at work and thinking about how much the subject of sex fascinates me. If most of my other plans for a career fail (shop owner/screenwriter/actress/dirty novelist) I would like to go back and be a sex therapist. Or just go to school, get a Ph.D. in women's studies and write books about porn.
I want to make a documentary about strippers. I need to do it before my best friend gets out of the game, but now that New Orleans is all messed up, my background setting is fucked. I loved those girls down there. I really miss that city right now. Sure there was plenty of small-minded bullshit, just like everywhere, but it wasn't nearly as cliquish or small-minded as the places I've lived since then. I'm tempted to get a NOLA memorial tattoo. Hey, Mrs_Misha...
I've been thinking about my friends, the real ones. The ones I trust and love and would lie down in traffic for. The ones who don't necessarily like the same bands or dress the same or whatever--but the ones who get me on that level that even I don't understand. Friendship isn't about being cool or measuring up to some qualification or being part of a scene. My best friends are a stripper in Utah, a teacher in Houston, a photographer in Seattle, a library-science student in North Carolina, an exchange student in Spain, a massage therapist in Detroit, an esthetician in Florida, a makeup artist, magazine editor, and bike mechanic in Denver, an ad copywriter in Chicago, a band manager in Montreal, artists in Atlanta, and students in Boston, Columbia, Philadelphia, and other places. They are black, white, male, female, millionaires and starving students, older and younger, tattooed or not, college-educated or high school dropouts, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, atheist, pagan. They are SG members and they are people who've never heard of suicide girls. But all of them know me and love me and make me feel good about being me. They keep me from flying into a million pieces when things are hard. And we all need that.
I feel so damn good right now, I wish I could bottle this feeling and hand it out to people who aren't happy. Everything is not perfect, but I am one hundred percent okay with it at this moment in time, and that's great.
I am now chatting with three of my favorite ladies, and two of them have the same name as me. Is that a weird coincidence, or am I just really that conceited?
I spent all day today reading sex-related blogs at work and thinking about how much the subject of sex fascinates me. If most of my other plans for a career fail (shop owner/screenwriter/actress/dirty novelist) I would like to go back and be a sex therapist. Or just go to school, get a Ph.D. in women's studies and write books about porn.
I want to make a documentary about strippers. I need to do it before my best friend gets out of the game, but now that New Orleans is all messed up, my background setting is fucked. I loved those girls down there. I really miss that city right now. Sure there was plenty of small-minded bullshit, just like everywhere, but it wasn't nearly as cliquish or small-minded as the places I've lived since then. I'm tempted to get a NOLA memorial tattoo. Hey, Mrs_Misha...
I've been thinking about my friends, the real ones. The ones I trust and love and would lie down in traffic for. The ones who don't necessarily like the same bands or dress the same or whatever--but the ones who get me on that level that even I don't understand. Friendship isn't about being cool or measuring up to some qualification or being part of a scene. My best friends are a stripper in Utah, a teacher in Houston, a photographer in Seattle, a library-science student in North Carolina, an exchange student in Spain, a massage therapist in Detroit, an esthetician in Florida, a makeup artist, magazine editor, and bike mechanic in Denver, an ad copywriter in Chicago, a band manager in Montreal, artists in Atlanta, and students in Boston, Columbia, Philadelphia, and other places. They are black, white, male, female, millionaires and starving students, older and younger, tattooed or not, college-educated or high school dropouts, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, atheist, pagan. They are SG members and they are people who've never heard of suicide girls. But all of them know me and love me and make me feel good about being me. They keep me from flying into a million pieces when things are hard. And we all need that.
I feel so damn good right now, I wish I could bottle this feeling and hand it out to people who aren't happy. Everything is not perfect, but I am one hundred percent okay with it at this moment in time, and that's great.
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
punt:
scooter11:
