Don't take it personal, girl that's how thugs do.

Yesterday was the first time in my life I regretted calling in sick. I mean, I've felt guilty before, but I never truly wished I had gone in. But yesterday, after taking a naproxen and calling in and going to sleep, I was awakened to move furniture. Yes. The repair guys came in to replace windows, and even the the note said to only clean off the windowsills, appararently they needed a five foot radius of space in front of all the windows in the living room, foyer, and bedroom. Which means we had to move the couches, the entire stereo setup and surrounding area, and the bed. I could barely find a place to sitdown, much less lay down. Sophie was freaking out by the commotion and strangers, plus she was shivering because there were no windows in our living room and it was 45 degrees outside yesterday.

I took her to the dog park to get us both out of the house (after a trip to Einstein's with MelRo) and then I went to throw rocks at Riley's apartment to convince Vanessa to hang out with me yesterday. It worked.

In the afternoon we went to the notorious Village Thrift and not only did I buy a sweater with rainbow stripes across the chest, but I also found a grey v-neck sweater that said "Immaculate Conception High School" on the left shoulder. I also found more pants, hopefully some that will fit me better than current ones which are constantly falling off.

Last night we just laid on the couch on top of the curtains and paraphenalia, watching Buffy reruns and eating Totino's frozen pizza. Our apartment looks like we're in the middle of moving. Or being bombed. Well, not so much the latter now that we have new windows and they cleaned up the mess. I don't want to leave the house this weekend.

Oh, and I have no hair. It's sexy.

I forgot to mention...

...my dream last night. I had gone home to see my parents and numerous family members. I hadn't been home in so long the event was to be filled with people I'd never met who were new to the family. I went around acting as if they should know me, not acting the least bit shy or nervous about them possibly going "now who are you related to and how?"

Then zenchump showed up (!!). Apparently he was my cousin, or the sibling of a cousin or something. I saw him and remember that as young teens we had some flirtatious possibly physical encounters, and I felt relieved that there was another trans person there, even if no one in the family knew he was trans. He was sitting in the living room of the house I grew up, and my mother left us alone to see who was driving up and I walked over and said something cheesy like "aren't you going to give me a kiss?" and I leaned over so I was practically straddling him on the sofa and we began kissing.

Um, yeah.

The dream proceeded on with a parade of family I didn't recognize and my parents acting concerned and slightly embarassed about me. I was either drunk, or just acting that way, since I had a severe case of braggadocio the whole time.

End dream. For what it's worth, zenchump you were a good kisser.