04.23.04

Feeling a general malaise--not specifically "I'm such a yotz,"-related, but still a wee bit down. Part of it could be PMS, but that doesn't negate how I feel.

I've wondered why I felt annoyed by the brush-off of "Oh, you're PMS-ing" any time a woman gets angry. It's as if the emotions aren't real if they're produced hormonally. I might be horribly wrong (and I ain't no fancy-schmancy researcher) but aren't they finding that many of our emotions are goosed into existence by hormones? Or have I come to a wrong conclusion based on the pseudo-science of popular journals? I don't know.

Oof. OK.

I threw out my razor last night. No one's going to be seeing my legs for a while. I need to work on my own shit before getting whatever-the-hell-you-wanna-call-it with someone. Develop better instincts about people, learn from a broader pool of people, I don't know what. There's something to learn from this peccadillo, I think.

Time to go pull stories off of the school newspaper server. And La Dolce Vita is coming on. I'm in such a Fellini mood--a little disassociated, surreal, unsteady--oh god, that opening shot of the helicopters and the Jesus statue flying over a crumbling, 1959-60, Rome? Wow.

I must be short attention span girl today. Oops.

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