January 10, 1999.

So...very...tired...must...write...entry... Sigh. This sucks. So much to write about - so little time in which to do so.

Okay. Here's an amusing idea I've been tossing around. When I get married & start a family (you know - when dinosaurs rule the earth once more), I want to send out those cheesy Xmas cards with family portraits on the front. But I want to do theme years. Like Goth Year, which is pretty much what you'd expect. I think it would work best with a baby in a dog collar, myself. And Underwater Year, where we're all swimming towards the camera. And - and this is my favourite idea so far - Trailer Trash Year: in the parking lot at Walmart, tight acid wash jeans, black bra, white see-though blouse, frizzy blonde hair - and it'll work best if I'm preggers, so my huge white fish belly can bulge out the top of the jeans.

Further suggestions?

The UClit function on Friday was pretty kick-ass, which surprised the hell out of me. What with the uncomfortableness between me & Lady Godiva due to the great coolness between me and Ophelia, I hadn't planned to stick around for this type of function. But between setting up to Morrissey, noshing the free snacks, picking songs and dancing wildly to the cover band, the hours quickly melted into a joyous blurrr. The Boy got to play AV Geek, which pleased him no end. I got to force my musical taste on an unsuspecting populace. And I even got to bump & grind with Lady Godiva to the Tom Waits classic "Pasties & a G-String." It was an almost perfect recreation of some of last year's best nights. And Exodus bought me beer, which capped off the night to perfection.

Then I got up & made eggs.

No, really. Having the Boy & Exodus sleep over made Saturday something of a sleep-over party, and scrambled eggs are my best dish in the universe...so I made enough for all. It was a bit like playing Mom, but since I was allowed to curse, most of the saccharine burned off in a hurry. Hoorah.

And as advertised, Saturday night I went back home to play reluctant Cupid. Gee, matchmaking is exhausting...especially when one of the persons doesn't know that (s)he's in the game. Subtlety isn't a natural state for me, and it quickly wears me down. But it was a good time overall. Drank several $1.75 beers, but didn't get tipsy...I'm perverse that way. Acted bitchy & critiqued all the women's clothing in that utterly un-sisterhood way I have. Exodus & I had exchanged quite a few words on the attractiveness of a particular dancing girl's outfit before I realized that she was one of our group...a friend's girlfriend, to be precise. D'oh.

Left the club at 1:45; arrived home to find my entire family up in the living room, watching teevee and playing on the computer. They all wanted to know if something had gone wrong to make me come home so early. I told them that the should all take their freek selves to bed. Almost two in the morning, for pete's. Sheesh.

Today I battled sloth & had dinner with Javina respectively. I always end up feeling like a kid whenever we get together...we meet in all these disturbingly adult places, where I feel about two years old just walking through the door. It was a lovely meal, though, and we talked of things omitted or forgotten from our perusals of each other's diary. As I've said, a lovely meal.

And that's all. Some of us have to go to a ridiculously late class tomorrow morning, you know...