According to an automated voice, the internet is down in our area. I find it increasingly difficult to work without the internet. The woman at the coffee shop said it was down for three weeks once. Here’s hoping it’s back up and functioning sooner than later.

Life is going great. You get a gig in a little (Oscar winning) film called The Social Network. Then, this guy pumps a baby into you:

Evidently Livejournal is only keeping journal entries on the “friends page” up for two weeks. Since nobody has posted in that amount of time, my friend’s page is totally empty and makes me so sad and not want to write anything. Pout.

So, I bought my first sexy book. At 30, it’s probably long overdue. I went into the local used bookstore looking for a specific book for an essay I had to write for yoga teaching stuff, and I left with an armload. One of the books was on tantric sexuality. It’s called something like Tantric Awakening and it’s for women, specifically. I’m totally excited to read it. It looks like it’s in pretty good shape (not sticky), but how gross is it that it’s “used.” Eew.

A plan was hatched to “take care of me” during this last, most difficult year of school. At first, I thought, take care of me? I don’t need anybody to take care of me. I’ve been doing fine all by myself thank you very much. Last night, a difficult night, I realized that yes, yes I desperately need to be taken care of. I haven’t been doing this alone anyway, and I can’t start doing it now. I mean this in the most honest, earnest, and unironic way. I think that I need to be taken care of. What a surprise.