my beloved, my one and only, the man with whom i am most intimate, decides last night that his bed should be called the "party pallet". my bed, in contrast, should be known as the "conference canoe." he makes me sound like i can't slip between the sheets without having to discuss "feelings" or "where this is going." and all this coming from a boy who, just hours before, so vehemently vetoed the idea of chocolate body paint.

i laughed myself to sleep.

the conference canoe.

sheesh.

yesterday in a moment of weakness i bought John Yao's Edificio Sayonara. weakness because can i possibly need another book? but i took it off the shelf and opened it to the middle and it said "there was nothing left to send you, so I fashioned this from smoke and hair, from the remains of the day as they were handed to me by others, by those who lost their tongues and those who forgot how to speak. It was the beginning of winter or the end of fall, it was dawn or dusk, it was yes I am here, and no I am not." and that was so perfect in my mind at the moment that i felt completely unable not to aquire just one more (not so) slim volume of verse.

today i decided to start from the first page, only to discover that the first page is signed by mr. yau himself. it was as if he said, hello christina, welcome to my book. it's for you. and that made me feel like i should say, hello mr. yau, i'm glad to be here. but i can't really. say that, i mean. because some things you just cannot reciprocate. not when the gesture is in your hands and the gesturer is out taking coffee elsewhere, completely oblivious to his name saying hello just below goodbye.

Perhaps this is the moment when the babble, its lapidary soap, yields to the music inside the phone. I sew my mouth shut.

home again, home again. jigidijig.

got a job, a new mission. to fit the women of the world into one pieces, tankinis, bikinis, boy shorts, and wraps. in a way, i love that it's so anti-poetic. for three months there will be very little discussion of intentionality, syntax, post-structuralism, or anything else high-falutin. just boobs and bellys and thighs. why not embrace it?

i had bubble bath this morning. and more of the river. my mind's been amuck today. i feel a little anxious, despite my recent employment. like i'm missing something. maybe i'm anticipating the departure of my beloved d. maybe it was my erratic night last night. a night not even blue bubbles could cure.

for june (compliments of elle magazine):

taurus: be practical this month. money management is a major issue. reconfigure your goals, and get specific. a step-by-step plan gets you on track. work demands peak midmonth; the pressure is on. score points by taking a leadership role.think about increasing your reach by expanding your skills. after the 23rd, getaways help you wind down. romance is light and playful in june.

libra: everyone has an opinion, but you know what's best for you. ignore outside distractions in early june and connect with yourself. you're revamping your game plan, and the big picture is clicking into place. career priorities clash, so you need to pick and choose, don't take on too much. mars in pices until year's end means that work pressures will intensify. romance is linked with travel this month; distant relationships heat up.

woo hoo!

but wait, there's still....

virgo: go public with decisions this month. you're in the driver's seat and taking control. call others' bluffs, and watch their resistance crumble. you've got nothing to lose and everything to gain. saturn in cancer emphasizes new goals and lifestyle changes. real estate is also highlighted, especially near the 14th. tie up loose ends from the past and start out fresh. venus in gemini frees up your heart -- and you've got the upper hand.

anyone else want their elle horoscope posted? i'm taking requests...