according to the Illinois Rules of the Road, the speed limit in alleys is 15mph.  i learned the hard way that this law is actually enforced.

it was the fall of 1990, and i was at a party.  don’t know whose, not sure where.  i arrived with a group of people in my trusty Ford Fairmont, but my friend Xavier drove and i hadn’t paid attention to where we were going.

a couple of hours later, this guy Mark who i think came with us had to go home, so Xavier and i agreed to give him a ride back to Boystown.  Mark sat in the backseat among discarded fast food wrappers and pop cans, drinking beer from a plastic cup.  i think i was taking swigs from a bottle of rum stashed in my inside jacket pocket.  why else would it have been there?  i might have even been on Ecstasy.

the ride was uneventful until we were pulled over because Xavier was speeding down an alley right across from the 23rd district police station.  everything would have been fine if Xavier handed the officer his own ID instead of his cousin’s, which he used to get in to the bars.  unknown to Xavier, there was a warrant out for his cousin’s arrest.

the cops searched the car because they smelled alcohol but were puzzled that they couldn’t find it.  thank God for fast food wrappers.  one of us (not sure who) was smart enough to stuff a crumpled paper bag into Mark’s cup to soak up the beer.  i was lucky they didn’t detect my rum when they frisked me.

Xavier went to jail.  Mark went home.  i went back to the party.

i kept my appointment with my therapist today even though i so did not feel like going. it was a bad morning. Brian worked from home today and we had an argument. i feel that sometimes he puts work ahead of me, and he disagrees. what more is there to say? we disagree. anyway, i don’t want to write about that–and that’s exactly why i didn’t feel like going to my appointment. i was upset, but i didn’t want to talk about it.

my therapist suggested that i keep track of my caloric intake, so i’ll be doing that now, too. i’ve kept pretty good track of what i’ve been eating, so it shouldn’t be too hard. i’ll try not to be a perfectionist about it and look up the calorie count for every single thing i eat because that’ll drive me nuts, i’ll feel overwhelmed, and then i’ll end up blowing off doing it altogether. that’s a pattern with me.

since Monday, the number of king-size bags of peanut M&Ms i’ve been eating has dropped to 2 instead of the average 5 a day. i don’t know if this is because i stopped taking Lamictal, but who cares? as long as i cut down, that’s a good thing.

oh, but i actually sorted 2 loads of laundry–1 last night, 1 this
morning, and Brian put them in the wash before breakfast. that’s a big
step for me. do i feel happy about it? hell, no. it’s one of those
things again that shouldn’t take such an effort to do.

we were planning to watch 1 of the 2 DVDs we rented 2 or 3 weeks ago that are overdue by about the same amount of time. anyway, we were going to do that at 10pm, it’s now about a quarter after, i’m sitting here typing, and Brian’s crashed on the couch. so i suppose i ought to get off my ass so we can actually watch the damn movie.

this is nothing new (found at Cliche Kitty), though i stumbled across it on someone’s blog while BlogClicking yesterday. (sorry, dude. i can’t remember your URL.)

anyway, it got me thinking. if God kills a kitten every time you masturbate, then it follows that God would kill a human every time a cat masturbates.

well, i must be one lucky human, because my cat Angelo masturbates with a blankie any chance he gets and i’m still alive. no, wait. no one can kill me. i’m blessed. i’m a Catholic.

what’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is mine.

i made the mistake of looking at my profile in the mirror after i got out of the shower. if i didn’t know better, i’d think i was pregnant. all the weight i’ve gained has gone to my stomach. you’d think some of it could have gone to my boobs, but no.

this weight gain came so rapidly that my body doesn’t feel like my own. suddenly i feel flesh where i never felt it before. skin touching skin that never touched before. if i’m lying on my back, i can no longer see the front of my panties because of the rise of my stomach.

according to FitDay, i’m on the borderline between moderately and severely overweight. i have never had this much mass before. it’s disgusting yet fascinating at the same time. i’m intrigued by my Buddha belly. maybe i find it interesting because it’s almost like being in someone else’s body.

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