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( Saturday, Aug. 31, 2002 11:52 pm )

>Drunk, non-motherly pedophile seeks SWM, 18

Last night Juney and I went out and got very drunk, although not so drunk that we couldn't walk home, which is key. The problem was that the bartender gave us free shots and I am powerless against the offer of free alcohol (unless it is being offered by strange men at the bar, in which case the feminist warning light goes on and I decline, thank you very kindly, and do not prostitute myself for a Bud, not that the men folk are beating down my door for this honor). So anyhow, I drank too much and had a terrific time, hugging Juney in the street on the way home, and felt wonderful until my head hit the pillow, and the best I can say for the rest of the night is that I wasn't sick, so hooray for that. I am the champion!

The library in our part of town is a crappy little temporary edifice right now, so today I went out and bought a couple of used books, though I was dismayed to pay $10 for them, especially since I already finished one this afternoon ("Intimacy" by Hanif Kureishi, and it was no good. His other book "The Buddha of Suburbia" is wonderful and long and funny and engaging, the absolute opposite of "Intimacy," which seems as though it was written by a different person).

In general, I'm craving letters and email full time, and devour them when they do trickle in, and wind up dissatisfied. I'm waiting for something worth waiting for, and the wait is killing me. If only everyone I know could be persuaded to write me 20 page sagas, including illustrations and many compliments and funny stories, then I could be a happy girl. As my mother told me, you must send mail to get mail--though I wonder why no one ever thinks to send mail to me first? Except for my mother. I got a card from her today with pictures of my moving-in day (me looking sweaty, Juney looking sweaty, Juney's dad looking sweaty) and Fourth of July (me drinking).

Note to self: look into sending letters to people I know.

Tomorrow Juney and I are traveling far and wide on trains and buses in order to go outlet shopping. Usually this would be like a nightmare day to me, but I'm really keen on getting a quilt for my bed. Nothing like spending money when you ain't got no job. I'm not even looking! I have gone mental. I swear to God above, the job search starts on Tuesday.

Yesterday Juney's older sister and her husband and baby boy came to visit us. At lunch the husband pretty much threw the kid into my arms, panicking me because I've never held a baby before ever. Sorry to practice on your kid, buddy. I managed to sit him down on my lap, but I was made a bit nervous by the fact that he (the baby) was slumping into me--failing to support the head! Panic! Panic! But no, he was just hungry and going for my boobies, apparently. I was all like, "Baby, I'm up HERE. Stop staring at the ladies." No, actually I was complimented, because his mom is, uh, stacked, so I'm suprised he was able to make the association between my little girls up top and a food source. Oh, also, unrelated note: June's sister offered to bring me their old bureau sometime. Wahoo!

Anyway, the kids are moving in at the University now, and all around us, and I'm starting to feel like a bit of a perv for living around here and not being a student. I'm going to be preying on freshmen until I'm 30, aren't I? Oh well, I always did want to be Mrs. Robinson, and now I am. Put THAT in your pantry with your cupcakes, baby.

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