march 24, 2001. My computer is fixed! No harm, no foul. I can finally play around with graphics again, something that neatly coincides with having a bit more free time and a bit more inclination to mess about with such stuff. I have April's layout done and it's just fabulous. I can't wait! Last night I dreamt that I was talking to Dav about a comic book he had written. He said that he had wanted to base the character on me, but since I had objected, he had based it on somebody else. When I told this to the Boy, he seemed amused. "That doesn't sound like you at all. You'd never refuse to be in a comic book." "Even in the dream I was disappointed," I said. "You'd let anyone - especially Dav - use your appearance or personality in a comic book," he continued smugly. "Unless it was something sexual." "I don't have a problem with that." I said. "Or really violent..." "I don't have a problem with that either." He looked at me suspiciously then sighed. "No, I don't suppose you would." We went to see the kittens again today. Yesterday we were there right in the middle of the birth and there were only 2 little ones to see. Now there are 4 of the tiny blind creatures, crawling constantly to find the nearest source of food. I was really impressed by the mama cat - when we arrived, she started making these movements as if she wanted to play even though she was attached to her little ones. I decided that I was reading the signals wrong - aren't birthing animals tense and angry? Aren't they wont to lash out if you stretch a finger in the direction of their young? Not this cat. She's very affectionate and incredibly calm, something I noticed about her yesterday. You never would've guessed that she was giving birth; she looked like she was about to take an afternoon snooze. It makes me think that her kittens would be amazingly personable, something I value highly in a cat. Hmmm. I am dawg tired today. Yeah, you heard me. Not anything as nice as dog tired - that describes a girl who is far nicer to her body than I. Today is the peak of a week of cumulative sleep dep followed by a late-night full of dancing and vodka. I haven't drank so much liquor in a while; I had forgotten that it does a number on your stomach, thereby reducing your ability & inclination to dance. Now I remember why I stopped drinking vodka in the first place. I feel soooo silly for forgetting. We were the first to arrive at the Anti-Stephen's house yesterday evening, beating Big Sur in his enormous fur pimp coat by a good five minutes. We told stories to one another until the rest of the people started to arrive, at which point there was far too much noise to converse with anyone who wasn't right next to you. I'd like to say that I was surprised that 15 people fit into a space no bigger than my bedroom, but I remember (r)evolution meetings all too well. (Ah, those nights in 2nd year when 13 people would vie for the right to sit on the closet floor. Hey, at least it was an excuse to keep the floors vacuumed - and uh, looking back on it now, that was probably the only good thing to come out of my failed attempt to edit a newspaper.) It was an extremely good party considering the space and time limitations. I felt more relaxed than I have in ages; more loved than I have been since we moved here. The Anti-Stephen played my requests and girls asked me all about my fetish experiences, my pants and my dreams. Once again, we left when we were still having a good time, but not for that reason. the anti-stephen: you know who I like in the program? I name the mad Cape Breton fiddler the a-s: no, I don't like him that much. he's too weird. I hoot hysterical laughter me: pot! kettle! black! I mean, I'm no one to talk but holy jeeze! At 10 we tripped on over to the Axe, because I had promised too many people that I would show up to completely punk out. I was wearing a classic Amoret outfit: the Dress, fishnets & boots, and my drunken classmates were free with the compliments although I looked terribly out of place in the general fratmosphere. It was then that I began to feel weak in body and sick to my stomach as the vodka kicked in. Lucky me, I had drank enough to be sick but not enough to actually be intoxicated. And the most unfortunate thing was that the dj was playing a blistering techno set which in terms of dancing is as good as it gets in the Axe. I wandered around greeting people, drinking beer & trying to figure out how much more I could take before I would fold like a row of tents. By midnight the Boy was doing worse than I and we made up our minds to go as soon as I had made my final rounds. It was then that the dj started dedicating songs to the education department. Good songs, songs I almost wanted to dance to. I happened to be with Hermione when the whole thing started, and we struggled onto the packed floor to dance one last dance. And then another last dance. And then the Boy showed up dancing next to us. And the night rolled on. We were packed onto that floor like toes in a high-heeled shoe. People spilled drinks on me and I began to sweat. So many people were touching me at all times that my body stopped recording the individual sensations. Everyone around me was in the program. It was strange and lovely and awful and exciting all at the same time. There came a point where I could not dance another step. And so we left. I didn't stop for goodbyes this time; I had already learned my lesson. When we got home we ate a slice of cold pizza and drank as much water as we could hold. Those two things felt like manna from heaven, a kiss on the cheek from God before we drifted off to oblivion. The sun shining through our curtainless windows awoke us far too soon.