and i reach for you

i just baked a cake. a rather exciting looking carrot cake.

whether it actually tastes as exciting as it looks remains to be seen. i am concerned for its welfare only because my oven and i are at odds--i have yet to come to the mathematical equation that will transform the numbers on the temperature dial into the actual temperature inside the beast. this is why the cake was in for nigh on 2 1/2 hours and only just now ceased to be thoroughly liquescent.

i hope it tastes okay. i sort of feel i've got something to prove here.

a totally different point to prove than the one i'm making by wearing one of my finest ho-bag tops.

...i went out last night with some of my friends. and while i enjoyed it (as i always enjoy their company), i felt so detached from it. virtually everyone asked me if i was okay, which is new. "what's up," or "how YOU doin'" are standard greetings. "hey shivvy, is everything okay?" is not. after blagging it all off as just being incredibly tired, i asked raski if i looked as caned as i felt. her response?

"no. you look sad. is everything okay."

is everything okay? how do you genuinely answer that question? of course everything's not okay. if it were, i would have achieved enlightenment and transcendence and gone to a higher plane of consciousness. everything is, however, at an acceptable level of fuckwittery. i can cope. but, i guess i am also kind of sad. not in any tangible way, just in that "hey, let's shut off all our emotions and wow am i tired and really really bored all the time" kind of way.

eh whatever.

god, am i glad i'm skipping town next weekend. i need a big smack of perspective and fast. yeah.

sigh.

okay. off to storm the tribeca ff. laputa, here i come. without my date.