points of contact

February 14, 2004
12.34a

today heather dragged me kicking and screaming to sephora. it's true, i swear. well, except for the dragging, kicking, and screaming parts. i like to pretend i'm above it but she knows better. anyway, the urban decay display drew me into its sticky venus-flytrap-like maw. i mean, how can you resist an eyeliner called "smog"? it's a greenish greyish brownish color and it makes my eyes look soooo blue. or a tube of stuff called "lip gunk" that has the approximate taste, texture, and feel of cherry pie filling but is darker in color. like cherry pie filling mixed with blood. perhaps my long-delayed goth phase is beginning. (no, not really.)

on the way out i did some obligatory muttering about women being manipulated into striving for impossible standards of beauty, blah blahblahblah. but really? i like it. it's like my face is a living coloring book. i tried it all out tonight, smoggy eyelids, black lashes, sticky sweet red lips. i looked in the mirror, mussed up my hair, and thought "i am a rockstar." delusional, certainly, but fun nevertheless.

some days i like being a girl.

one thing i need to tell you is that david called me tonight. i was having dinner with a friend and... well there's this thing i've been imagining happening, knowing i would have to face it eventually. my phone rings, i take it out of my pocket, the display reads "david cell" and tonight it happened. and i reacted with my trademark quick witty eloquence: "um." friend says "answer it." i do. oh god so awkward and clumsy and "hi how are you?" "okay, how are you?" such a pale imitation of us. he wants to borrow a key from me, is the short story. i didn't think to ask why he doesn't just get it from someone else. but he is coming tomorrow. "we can have breakfast if you want," he says.

and i do want. and i don't want. i have no idea what i'm going to do. i was afraid earlier, but now i'm not. i don't know what i'm going to do, but it will be fine.

it is valentine's day. i have already received the most fucked up wonderful cookie you could ever hope to see. and there will be the dinner with so many beloved people instead of just one. my coworker asked "are you going to have a bitter angry singles dinner?" i said "no." i said "we're going to have a wonderful warm i love my friends dinner." and i meant it.

so happy day, you fuzzy little ducklings. spread some warm and gooey loving, okay?