2004-06-24..5:23 p.m.

Three fun and wacky things that happened to me this week in reverse chronological order (anti-clockwise if you will.. ho ho):

1. Yesterday on my way to work I SWALLOWED A BUG! A bug that then FLAPPED IN MY THROAT in a desperate bid to relieve itself from the clutches of my gasping oesophagus before I drowned it with a baleful combination of regurgitated bile and bottled water. This is NOT the way I would ordinarily chose to start my day, and let it be known that had I the choice, bug swallowing would never be done again at ANY time of day. Seriously uncomfortable. Still, there is a lesson: one does not need to be cycling or zoomzoomzooming in a convertible to inadvertently inject small insects. Thus learned I will in future endeavour to refrain from singing Franz Ferdinand�s �Michael�* silently to myself while dragging down the road in a half-trot to work.

2. Yesterday on my way upstairs trying to get myself together before running into flying carcasses on the way to work a knotted, expelled condom DISLODGED ITSELF FROM MY PANTS! That�s right, a latex-allergy friendly cemetery of semen flew from the cuff of my jeans onto the main landing as I ran up to my room. I have no idea how it ended up in there, in the cuff of my jeans (v likely the result of Steve chucking it without looking), but there it stayed until Wednesday morning when it made a leap for freedom and landed loudly enough for me to turn around to see what fell.

3. Tuesday I had the good fortune to be able to pounce on the rare opportunity to utter the phrase, Heathen Unbeliever. Even MORE titillating, I was describing myself! The office I work in is overrun with Christian types, who granted primarily keep it to themselves, except we�ve got these two South Afrikaans who are decidedly church-heavy and on Tuesday asked if I had ever attended their church. To which I loudly and almost giddily told them, Nope! I�m a Heathen Unbeliever! And then giggled to myself as they tried to wrap their feeble church-heavy minds around such a thing. Even better, on the Monday, one of them had said their bed was empty over the weekend to which I responded mine hadn�t, and then yesterday asked if my *boyfriend* had accompanied me from Canada. To which I verily (verily!) spat, I�ve not got a boyfriend. And then giggled to myself as they tried to figure out how it be possible that I could share a bed and not have a *boyfriend*. So much gid for two relatively small occurrences. I�m quite certain they now think I am one with Satan.

One way in which WORLD�S are COLLIDING:

1. Steve (from that band) met Matthew (the nice one) at the Water Rats. Steve was completely thrown by his first hand confirmation of just how nice Matthew is and went all guilty (�He�s such a nice guy, Meepie. No, REALLY. He�s such a GENUINELY NICE GUY!�) and paranoid (�He knows it�s me.� No, he doesn�t. �Meepie, of course he knows it�s me!� He doesn�t, he just said how much he likes you. �If I were him, I�d know it was me.�) I�ve not heard from him since, and if I didn�t know he�s scheduled to be in the studio for the next two weeks, I�d be pretty pissed with this little series of events.

Three ENTIRELY DIFFERENT SERIES of reoccurring dreams:

1. masturbation. Last night clocked the third time this week. I don�t know what�s wrong with me, except that in my dreams I�ve become a teenage boy with a permanent hard-on (not literarlly.. in the dreams I�m still a girl, but how cool would that be?)

2. famous people and getting under tables. The other week it was Robert Smith with the shoes, last week it was Minni Driver in a weird Turkish caf�, this week it was someone male and possibly senatorial, but I can�t remember. Hopefully it�ll happen again tonight because I want to know who it is.

3. things falling like TV static. These are by far some of the most abstract my dreams have ever been. You know the oldskool Spiderman animated series? The way there was like three set backdrops that would kind of move with Spidey as he went? Or in old Westerns? Well, these are kind of like that: a constant stream of the same image raining in the background. Like awful wallpaper, or a kids bedsheet. Men in trenchcoats holding up opened umbrella�s, kitten�s in trees, superheroes in launch position.. it goes on. It�s weird.

I�ve begun the Unbearable Lightness of Being again, have no idea why I found it so cumbersome the last time.. maybe because I�d just finished school and I was still all headfucky with the Michael and the moving and the daunting prospect of Future. I�m reading the Beautiful and Damned as well which is a bit unnerving, though I�ve not figured out why. All the whinging rich people? Maybe. AND I�m reading the Confederacy of Dunces by Whatsit O�Toole which is BRILLIANT! It was only written in the 80s too, which I finding insane: the language is of an entirely different era. He could have been writing in the 40s. Love! So, three books I recommend to you. Also found the Tick in graphic novel form and it�s SO MUCH FUNNIER than the animated Tick. I can�t emphasise that enough, it�s just so funny. I nearly missed a bus stop because I was laughing so hard. It�s a stroke of genius.

Right. I�m off.. Things to do, bra�s to rehook (I don�t know what it is. Men just look in my general direction and the clasps just SPRING OPEN), people to review, bands to schmooze with. Jesus. I�m an indie anti-celebrity whore.

****meep

*Do you know this song? It�s been on repeat in my mind for days and I love it. It�s this gay lust ballad, which I think this is one of the most beautiful, Clockwork Orange-y songs I�ve ever heard. It�s sublimely graphic, and delicately morose in one.