He says, c'mere baby and kiss me like you mean it.

I wish I could remember what I did last night other than have sex, especially since that really only took up the time while my brown rice was cooking. Things obviously happened in the four hours between that and Lowenstein coming home and us going to bed to be all talkative and lovey, but I can't remember. I think I downloaded some porn. I think I also did my new unintentional favorite hobby which is shop online for unneeded products, then right as I've filled the cart and finalized my selections, I suddenly realize I shouldn't be spending the money and close the browser window.

Oh, I did write 500 words on my nanowrimo project. I'm a obviously little behind on the word count this year. But this morning in the shower I was thinking about my characters and the opening sequence and experimental idea for the narrative when I suddenly got a big bolt of inspiration. The kind that makes me laugh out loud. Have other experienced this?

Occasionally my laughter is inappropriate, such as when I'm nervous or anxious or upset. Sometimes it's just unexpected, like laughing orgasms. But I often feel laughter bubble up and explode suddenly when bursts of creativity break into my brain, either my own idea or even consuming someone else's piece. I've laughed while standing in front of paintings in museums and during performances and while reading books. It's hard to explain why, so I usually don't, I just shrug my shoulders and move on.

Lately I laugh when I think of my new favorite thing that someone in my life does but I'm afraid to tell them about it because it might effect how and why they do it. I don't want to taint or effect it all, because I love it so much. I don't even want to say it outloud to people who will never know what I'm talking about, so I'll just constantly grin to myself and see how long I can hold the secret.

Last night I did a tarot reading for Lowenstein and she asked about why I shuffle the cards for her reading and have her deal the cards for mine, rather than us touching our own, and I talked about it mostly being about personal style and how one channels. I then proceeded to give her a reading where in some ways I was clouded and getting mixed images coming from all her overthinking on the situation, basically channelling her in addition to the universe, and then she managed to have clear insights and clarity of vision on the situation through the cards. But hey, whatever works. Interestingly enough we both had exact same opening card -- reversed two of pentacles.

But I was just a boy, you were so much more.

I have a very visceral and primal adoration for Yoko Ono. It's the only way I can explain it. It's immune to any criticism or jokes or ridicule. Today I was thinking about a conversation in college from some friend of a friend who wrote a paper on how Ono being forgotten in discussion of "kick-ass women in rock" is due to racism. I didn't disagree with his thesis, but I remember being quite shocked that he'd thought of it and was so committed to the issue -- he was the least likely candidate in my mind since in the same breath he'd probably say something ignorant about someone non-Yoko.

I had a dream with her in it earlier this year where she was my lover. As much as I think and read and talk about celebrities, they're rarely in my dreams.

Today I did some research on the planet/comet/asteroid Chiron. Astrologists are weird. I also bought a new cell phone (my current one is being held together by a rubber band) and pondered how I'd feel if my unabridged journals got published thirty years after I died. I guess I wouldn't feel anything because I'd be dead. And now it's time to go home.