Today is hot! Yesterday was hot! Hot! When I left work last night, it was still shirt-sleevesy, which almost never, ever, never happens in SF. Public transportation was accordingly messy, all crowded and sweaty and slow, and everyone was full of the kind of rage that apparently really needs to be shared.

Like when BART Man accidentally left the PA running after making an announcement about, of course, train delays, thereby treating us all to a conversation with a BART rider whom I'm guessing was really cute because BART Man was all "darling" and "ciao" and flirty joking about "checking his ouija board" for the arrival time of the next train. The guy standing next to me on the platform turned to me and said, "Yeah, real professional, guy" in that sarcastic, conspiratorial tone that says "clearly you and I hate the same things, let's sex it up!" But since I don't really require nor expect the BART people to be professional, and since I especially love accidentally broadcasted conversations (maybe because I got my first ever "funny feeling" while watching that scene in MASH, the movie, where the whole unit hears Hotlips rubbing her rack on Frank?), and since it was way too hot to want to sex up angry BART strangers, I just smiled a small smile and pretended to be foreign.

Anyway finally I made it over to Leisa's for stage two of the six-part Operation Foxy Face. For this session, we did a burny chemical peel followed by nice, soothing masks and lotions and other various TINCTURES. But that first peel, the acidic one, really went to town on my problem spots, around my nose and chin and mouth, and by the time I got home, that whole area was already peeling and red and in some places ... oozing. Kind of like I accidentally fellated an exhaust pipe? (Again.)

As I soothed my face by packing it with tacos and watermelon drink, I turned on the TV and caught the last little bit of The Dead Zone. I was just finishing dinner when I noticed Marbles going all bug crazy on the bed. I went over to see what she was after and there were like ten little dumb anty things with useless wings crawling around! Insanely gross. They were easy to catch, though, I just grabbed them one by one in a napkin and flushed them away, bye bye! But then, four seconds later, there was a whole new crop of them! Their source was a complete mystery, too. My bedspread is white, so they were easy to see, but even though I stopped and stared and waited and focused, whenever a new one arrived it was as though it had just popped into this dimension ... they didn't fly in or crawl up or drop down or anything! After about ten minutes of bug killing, their supply began to taper off, and an hour later, they were, to the best of my knowledge, gone. Even so, the whole thing kind of freaked me out, like maybe the eerie goings on of The Dead Zone were spreading out from the TV into my realm? Plus my bruised ass still hurts, especially when I try to put on socks, or shoes, or pants.

What with the damaged rear-end and chapped face and bugs, 33 sure is getting off to a less-than-cute start, boy. And I had such high hopes for this year! It's a palindrome year! A record-speed year! The Jesus year! Maybe I'm just getting all the plagueries out of the way at once, efficient-like? And the rest of the year is going to rule like crazy? That would be great.

(PS: My diary has officially moved over to my official evany.com website. Let's meet up over there!)

(PS: My diary has officially moved over to my official evany.com website. Let's meet up over there!)