John and I have now been apart one week. It sucks. It sucks so momentously. Two more weeks until I see him in London for a few days. All AM chatting on Facebook's chat thing, we span the most domestic and banal, this grocery list of our days, the dogs, lusty things, loverly things, stuff about our research. There's this, which shows my terrible neediness.

did you like my blog post last night?

yes

...

I really did like your blog post

i liked it too

esp caps at the end - felt inspired

i want to provide the narrative for the doc about your life

sigh

but that's funny right?

my aversion was funny

i mean you can give a voiceover

DON'T DIE VIOLENTLY!!!

totally funny

but super creeps man - the dad talking about francesca the drama queen as she's strip-teasing in the opener

in a morbid you way

totally weird

i don't plan to die violently

sounds interesting

or be a brilliant artist

sounds hard

to be either

i prefer being a passive depressive

that's my poison

u already are

then probably getting ladycancer

someway down the road

no

not like that

not documentary -worthy

then i'll get ladycancer

and everyone afterwards will ascribe it ot my depression

fuck them

like - oh she was really negative that's why she got a lump in her uvula

not full on bananas genius going up in flames brilliant artist?

yeah that's hard

that's the francesca woodman or sylvia plath model

i think you have to be blonde

and young

and WASP-y anyway

too hard

what's a uvula?

how is the head space today?

what head space?

i have expedia space

and beet juice space

oh it's our one-week anniversary

of desolation

desolation row

that little thing that hangs in the back of your throat that makes you gag

right

don't write me no more letters no

FUCK EXPEDIA

not unless you mail them

from desolation row

okay i won't get cancer in my uvula

i'll get it in my vulva- somewhere really embarassing

then they'll have to scoop me out

that would be a weird place to get cancer

and i'll write a really boring memoir-essay about my hysterectomy

using illustrations from 19th century textbooks at whatever library you're working on at the moment

right

by that time i'll maybe have a "career" and i'll publish it in ploughshares, because i'll like the idea of "ploughing" and "sharing"

god how awful and boring

Of course then afterwards we had a 10-minute chat about how I was going to publish this on my blog. And how that was maybe crossing a boundary but I was curious, plus didn't care.