I am 26 and a half today; it means that at every moment I come closer to being 27.
Really, at every moment I come closer to being 28, and 31, and 46.
I have a dog. She was dirty, but then it snowed & she ran in it, and suddenly she's crystal clean.
I usually call Fat Tire Flat Tire but it's often the only beer in my mother's refrigerator. I unpacked it from her luggage; she moved the beer from california in august.
I am no longer sick.
I can wear pants, if I like.
I'm wearing these pants I got & wore everyday in london. I am wearing wool tights underneath.
There is snow & blue sky outside, and it reminds me of chicago at its wintry best. The crunch beneath my bootheels satisfies.
I am not hungry.
I am aware of my jobs.
I am ready to play pool & to drink pitchers.
I am ready to wake up in different places, like colorado, and a tropical island, and new york.
I will paint my room the colors of the painted desert, once I have a room to paint.
My fingernails are way, way too long.
I hold no grudges.