People in The States don't react the same way they used to. There is no more protest. Only weak private promises. But is it because of a weak population or is it because of a weaker development in message delivery and of message deliverers?

I hope I see him again before too long

Last night I got back home around 3 and before putting my key in the top lock, I turned and looked over the railing and past the roof to the moon. The sky was cloudless and the stars were dim in comparison. I thought to myself, "This could be the last time I ever see the moon," and in fact, I was 70% sure of it. I thought, "If I enter my apartment and spook a thief inside and that was the end, would I have wished that I would have looked at the moon longer?" And I thought I would. So I looked for 5 more seconds before turning back to the lock. I put my key in. "They could be hearing the teeth clattering against the tumblers and know I'm coming." I turned the key and push the door. I think I wish I had looked longer, but I'm not sure. I went inside anyway.

Oh Yeah, She's Menstrual!

I like to call this post, "the dangers of drinking alone," and I dedicate it to red wine-aholics everywhere.

ahem. So if, in honor of Valentine's Day (and some other cool shit that's happened this week), you work your way through a half bottle of Carmenere and then do a funny walk into the bathroom to take a leak, have you ever looked in the toilet after you peed and thought (in all seriousness), "Oh my god, I just pissed pure red wine," only to realize a second later that you started your period?

Hilarious.

I wish someone had been here to see it. Boo not getting laid on days when I can safely suspect that the rest of the world is getting laid.

Kiss kiss.

Hey, You're Retarded

Dear People I Used To Sleep With,

Stop announcing your pregnancies on MySpace. That's SOOOOOOO tacky. Ick.

Kthxbi

Saaaaaaaaaaaaaay.

Some of us were talking. And we decided to invent a new offshoot of this Remorseless Blog. For telling each other about our life-changing, usually excessively girly, purchases that were really fucking worth having bought (sedu flat iron, ladies?)

So it's been created/added to this blog's log in. It's called The Indulgence Blog.

And this way we can compartmentalize a little better. Because I find myself too frequently wanting to tell the world about something ridiculous I bought that turned out to be amazing but that's not exactly...remorseless. It's more self-indulgent.

Hence, and hence. YEAH!

Birds of St. Marks

The past few nights I haven't had anyone in my bed. There hasn't been anyone in my bed longer than that but it's been the past week or so that I've felt it. I want to kiss the no one next to me. My heart wants to wrap itself around them.


And if anyone else has been having trouble logging in, the user name is: remorselessblog@gmail.com

Oh, Also

Could you at least make like you're a SMIDGE excited for me on the phone? I know your little boy's club road trip thing is super important but SERIOUSLY they are not going to KICK YOU OUT if you do a WEE BIT OF GUSHING because you know what? It's KIND OF A BIG DEAL, you cock. I HATE having to be double-excited for myself because you feel funny.

There. Now I feel better and won't actually have to say that to his face. God Bless the Remorseless Blog.

I Wish I Could Decipher Your Letter

I can't remember what I wanted to spew remorselessness about. Maybe that it just took me a good thirty minutes to remind myself how to log in? I was apparently feeling remorseless when I started the process.

OH WAIT I KNOW

TurboTax, you fucker. I hauled my ass all the way to this pretentiously decorated coffee shop full of fluffy coffee shop people, slogging through eight feet of melting snow and fording the resulting rivers of shit, clutching my kind of heavy computer for dear life lest I do the slipping-but-not-going-down ice dance and mistakenly fling it across the road, all for the opportunity sit at this table and drink an americano (because they "don't do drip coffee here") and have you tell me that you're "saving my data" for TWENTY MINUTES AT A TIME which I am beginning to believe is a lie. I just want my fucking taxes done, and as much as I deplore my dependency on you, I CANNOT DO IT ALONE. I'd take my goddamn business elsewhere but you are holding my 2006 information HOSTAGE so I can't.

You whore.

My god, I forgot how awesome this blog is.

Other Than This World

Yesterday I went shopping at Target for the first time in a long time. Kind of a depressing experience...but that's not the point of this story. I bought a really soft pair of sleeping pants. They were $10. I was pretty happy about that.

Going to sleep this evening I put them on. Ohhhh so soft. So nice.
Laying in bed, falling asleep, ideas running through my head. Nope, that can wait for tomorrow. Todays over. ahhh, relaxing into sleep...in my nice new soft cotton pants.

Half-asleep. Hand on my leg. Oh there's pockets in these pants. Cool. Reach into pocket. There's something in my pocket. It feels plasticky. Rubbery. I didn't put anything in my pocket. Huh? I started pulling it out. It's kind of wet. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. It just spilled on my side and onto my bed. I sit up. Turn the light on. OH MY FUCKING GOD. THERE WAS A USED FUCKING CONDOM IN MY NEW FUCKING PANTS AND IT JUST SPILLED ALL OVER MY BED AND MY BODY. HOLY SHIT. I want to puke. Recapping this makes me gag. oh jesus.

Well that didn't really happen but I did get these new soft pants and I did reach into the pocket while falling asleep. There was nothing there. But you can imagine what it would have been like if there were!

Intrusive Thoughts During My Workday

1. Is it racist that I eat 95% of my food with chopsticks? I know, for example, that veggie burgers are not traditionally eaten with chopsticks, but it makes me so happy. I do it in the privacy of my own home. It's not like I ask for them at Indian restaurants. although I have come dangerously close to doing that before.

2. Does anyone else find it truly hilarious that Fat Joe has titled his new album, "The Elephant in the Room" ? Because I seriously die laughing every time someone on MtV makes reference to this.

Cause it's early but still too late

When I'm alone again
I come back to this world
Where I'd rather have you
Than any other girl
The thought of you, it turns me on
Your intelligence, your looks, your wicked charm...and your body, your taste, your...
Sometimes I lay in bed
Unable to sleep
Wishing I was in his place
For a day, a night, a week
And other times
I think about your potential
And it drives me wild
Perched mid-way up a ladder
Knowing you're destined to climb
It makes me happy that you're out there
Even if you'll never be mine
Our day may have passed
But I still keep you in my mind
And I know how you hate these
And reading it I can understand why
But I like writing them anyway
Even with silly half-rhymes

And it just kind of ends...but maybe I can sleep now.