At least my red car knows and loves me well enough that if it must dump my ass on the side of the road, it will do so near a fruit orchard.

I'd been bitching about the dearth of live music "around here" for over 11 years.

I always think it's cool to go out and find some, until I realize that listening to it really impedes my ability to hear, much less follow a conversation.

"You need to get out of your comfort zone every once in a while."

So, I'm auditing 2 undergrad classes. OK, to be honest, one is definitely in my comfort zone - Sexo y crimen en México durante el Porfiriato. And to be even more honest, attending that class is a partial requirement of the 8 unit independent study I'm taking with its professor. However, the other one is a class on Latin American Cinema. It's being taught in English and is held in a big lecture hall on the science-y side of campus. The course must have over 100 students and the nearest coffee is not Cargo Coffee. Oh, and, I'm really living dangerously...I haven't even bought the book yet.

Do prostitutes ever do pro bone-o work?

A lesser athlete would have thrown in the towel if faced with such adversity.

I, however, did my usual run in the 90-somethings° heat even though...I couldn't find my stopwatch anywhere.

Ran, 41 (¿?), olives.

It's so evocative, it's almost unreadable...

This work of devastating, saturated fragility and anger is so beautifully heartbreaking I can only read a few pages at a time.

It was a question only your best friend or your physician should ask.

She interrupted my discourse on Why I Suck.

"Where are you in your cycle?" "I don't know." "Don't you write it down?" "Yeah." "But...you don't know?" "I know where I write it down." She rolled her eyes and continued, "It just seems like you hate yourself even more than usual during certain times of the month...you know." "Yeah. Well. Whatever. So what if I am all cranky and fat and bloated? It just means that there's more of me to loathe."