I cannot breeeeeathe!

No, it's really hideous. When I cleaned last week I kicked up all this dust that sent me spiraling into the hell that is allergy attacks, but that should have cleared up after a day or two. Right at the exact minute, however, that it would have done said clearing up, it got really humid.

You know, I think humidity without heat is harder to breathe. So anyway, I've spent the past week coughing up my lungs every time I take a breath. I even coughed myself into vomiting on the elevator when I was leaving work last night (o calm down it was only a little bit!), and I had to go down to the ground floor before turning around and going back up so that I could clean it up--and of course there was this man with a toddler waiting for the lift and I had to tell him:

"Ummm...you don't want to get on this elevator. Trust me on this one."

After seeing all those goddamn Old Navy ads with Jerry Hall and that dog and that retard model Marcus or whatever who appears to be unable to say more than three words in a row, and the posters on the sides of busses and on top of taxis for those new cargo pants, I thought "What kind of chump would actually buy those trousers?" Then I got a flyer in the mail, and you know what? They're really pretty cool pants?

I may just have to be that chump.

So my college boyfriend, Geoffrey, has started his very own page! He has a nice .wav clip of his music, and an essay about feeding his son and it's really swell and everyone should go!

One year ago today:
No, I'm an actor, I only care about myself.

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Last Updated Fri 7 August 18:22:09 1998