dog years

I had a huge dream about jboy last night. Why is it that I chose the week before vd day to resume television worship? I think that was possibly the ignition of the wierd ass dream about marriage and rings and odd sexual ritual.

Whatever it is. I must say that I've been on a diet for a week now and I am BORED. Most things seem pretty unattainable tonight. The blank slate is truly blank and also dripping drool from the lack of anything to say. Dishes, family, friends, grad school, Nytimes, bath, bed, plants, fresh-baked scones. None of it inspires me. But is it supposed to.

I read Joseph Campbell last night. He just seems to lift me from whatever cloud or thin air I happen to be surrouned with and put in a happy place.

I need boy. I ache for jboy. He is perfect -- yet he's nothing but who I imagine,why shouldn't he be perfect? out there in the world, living and being my dream... and I know I am not ready for him. And maybe what I really want is his life. That I definately want. Active and intellectual. What I don't want is to put the effort into it.

And that is my mistake. so tomorrow, chasing the dream that is my destiny, I will get to the gym, count those calories and try to pickup inspiration on the street corner. Maybe I need god... no silly girl, what you need is sex. See, here's the dilema. What is it I want and need?

If I weren't already like 100 in dog years, I'd have had this quarter life crisis thing taken care of.