If a cow ever got the chance...

It has come to my attention that all I ever do in this diary is complain. Not sure why that's so much easier--because life is really good right now. I get to fly to New York tomorrow night to watch the Apprentice with D. N. Resuscitate, and later see the Whitney Biennial and that Minimalist sculpture show at the Guggenheim, and possibly make out with Mr. NY (but at the very least have dinner), and buy a vegan handbag here because three of five zippers on my backpack are broken, and go to this restaurant, which is clearly some sort of paradise on earth.

Plus, especially for someone who spends all her time hanging out with ex-boyfriends, I have been blessed with amazing girlfriends. My new buddy J has already loaned me her "Mizzou Feminist" sweatshirt (which was really hard to give back), as well as this kick-ass book by Octavia Butler, and split a mint-jasmine hookah with me...

And in Southard, Oklahoma, where his incomprehensible job has taken him for the week, there is a large and jovial computer technician who may very well be the love of my life. Even if I never get him to stop eating a big slice of something's butt* for breakfast every morning.

*usually porcine

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