I used to be the World’s Most Prolific Blogger. Then everyone started doing it so I had to quit.

keep your eye on the wall…

Jul. 12th, 2006 | 04:34 am

there is a slowly creeping spider crawling along the wall in front of my desk right now and it is fucking CREEPY. but i’m trying not to kill things just because they’re, you know, living. so i’m just watching him go and hoping he’s

a) not poisonous. but i think most spiders are not so it’s probably cool. and

b) not going to end up in my bed because i will, before rational thought takes over, FLIP OUT and then he will have no hope left in his tiny, fragile, nimble little body that he should ever creep peacefully along walls again.

and if so help me god i ever get bitten by a spider the rest of you fuckers are TOAST. you got that? i hope your tiny little eyes are as good as they say they are but, just in case, i will write it again: TOAST. take it back to the web and tell EVERYONE.

in other news: my breasts are

a) gigantic and

b) hurt like hell.

i have mixed feelings about birth control. some of these feelings include: satisfaction, knowing that i am effectively reducing my chances of many types of cancer, the most important type being pregnancy; appreciation, of modern science that i have been afforded the opportunity to remain sexually active and childless indefinitely; concern, that my boobs will stay this swollen and sore for the duration of my sexually active and childless existence; and finally, INSANE BITTERNESS that i am NOT ACTUALLY currently sexually active. it’s killing me. i’m really too picky to be promiscuous. and it’s getting worse. it’s especially worse when i like someone that i can’t have and then i measure all potential suitors up to that person, because i don’t want to SETTLE for chrissakes. but of course no one can measure up to someone i can’t have because, by virtue of that fact that i can’t have him, he has acheived a status in my mind that far surpasses that of anyone that i could have.

i’m turning into fucking woody allen.

it’s gotta be the birth control. this is the SECOND woody allen moment i’ve had this week. i think the other was in regard to my feelings about my place in the heirarchy of artistic talent. i was complaining to tabor about my mediocrity or something and when i said “there are so many people better than me” he said “but there are so many people worse than you” and i said “SO? who the fuck cares about THEM?” i mean, if they’re behind me then i really can’t see them. which means: i’m always on the bottom. or, at best, the bottom of the top. and that was when i thought of woody allen quoting groucho marx in annie hall, saying the key joke of his adult life is that he doesn’t want to be part of any club that would have him as a member. and then i thought of catch-22. damn. what a great novel.

come to think of it, nate and i also referenced that line for some reason when we were drinking whiskey in my parents’ pool at 3 in the afternoon one day last month. i wonder why i can’t remember what that was about…? and come to think of it i really need to see manhattan again. does everyone else think diane keaton is as beautiful as i do? or was anyway. i mean, i don’t exactly think father of the bride did her younger self any justice. and don’t try to give me that feminist slant about how women are more beautiful the older they get…i’m just saying: the godfather movies? COME ON. was michael corleone fucking BLIND? who cheats on a woman that looks like that? not me. but what do i know. i’m a straight woman getting no play.

where the fuck did itsy bitsy spider go? i lost him in my panic over being neurotic. he probably crawled down into my slipper so i can finally live out that childhood-long nightmare of that scene from arachnaphobia. you know the one where the old man puts on his slipper and gets bitten and then dies? it wasn’t so funny then but now i think it’s kind of humorous the way they show the spider scamper away after that. like he’s thinking “i’m getting away with it!” Or maybe it’s a “she” spider, i don’t know. if i assume it’s a “he” am i sexist against women because i should allow that a woman (spider) also has the power to kill an old man in his pajamas? or am i sexist against men because not all violent crimes are committed by men (spiders)?

i tell you what, let’s forget all that and focus on what’s important: COCKROACHES. the bane of my existence. if i EVER see one of you in my house you better run like hell because it is fucking OVER. all that shit people talk about you surviving nuclear holocaust won’t mean dick when you’re squished on the bottom of the shoe of whomever i pay to kill you after i run to them shrieking. WON’T MEAN SHIT. shrieking hysterically. that’s right.