It Hurts to Be This Sexy
	2004-05-05 | 12:32 p.m. Not Your Momma's Ambiguity
	I think I woke up before my alarm this morning and turned it off in a fit of sleepiness. I keep staying up ridiculously late and not getting any work done. I have decided to combat the blah by getting a massage today. Three cheers for my Pretend Poppa, the massage therapist in town. We have half an hour together, and I am hoping that he goes for the weird spot in my left shoulder/neck area that is making me feel like I should have my head eternally cocked to the left. Wonky wonk. The thesis, she needs to be done already. I'm not sick of the ideas, but I'm sick of the physical document. I never learned to like revising as a youth, so I don't see why I should like it now. Being a solid writer will do that to you, I think--you get so much praise just for not being terrible that nobody ever expects you to fine tune until you jump into the big leagues, where that's all you do. Tonight I am throwing myself in head first and not coming out until the connections that need to be made in the final section are totally there. Hooray for goals. Also, three cheers for the reward system. The play party is my reward for finishing revisions by Thursday. Sex is such a friendly reward, no? But speaking of sex partyage, I had a rather curious exchange with Drag Crush last night. We were phone talking about plans for this weekend (I'm thinking of going to the conference in New Paltz), and the conversation turned to submit, where she will be playing with a friend of ours (the same one from this weekend). I like to take the painful, supportive approach when I like someone who doesn't feel the same about me, so I was very yay hurray about the whole thing. And then she asked if I had seen the two of them making out on Saturday. And maybe I'm reading things into voices that I shouldn't, but the whole exchange was very checking in to see if I was okay. Concerned, maybe waiting to see what I'd say or how I'd react. Or maybe just trying to tell me to back off. Hm. An ambiguous exchange, any way you slice it. I hadn't seen the making out, but it didn't surprise me. It's really what flirty, friendly people do when they're dancing super close and have just had an amazing night. Well, they don't do that with me, so much, but I've definitely seen them do it, which is, you know, almost the same thing. (Oh stabbie death!) Whatever. I'm getting the rubdown and burying myself in my thesis. And when I come out, I'll still be slightly achey, and very finished, and exuberantly happy. ~~Jazz Hands~~ The weather that ROARED - 2005-03-01 Enabler's Rag - 2005-02-15 Where in the world? - 2005-01-14 Where have all the rude boys gone? - 2005-01-04 quickly - 2004-11-21 <-- - -->	Last Next Newest Older Rings Pictures Links Profile Guestbook Email me Notes Diaryland Hate is Great

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