Also, what you cannot see in these pictures is the epic amount of closet space that I have.  I have so much closet space that I have an underwear closet, which houses nothing but a dresser full of underwear and all my frilly lady things.

2.  So, the definition of quirkyalone is “a person who enjoys being single (but is not opposed to being in a relationship) and generally prefers to be alone rather than dating for the sake of being in a couple,” and generally that has really pretty exactly characterised how I feel.  But for some reason, just this week, I’ve felt completely, irrationally opposed to the idea of ever being in a relationship, ever.  (Illustrative example:  So, Cute Earnest Barista told me to come to that show, right?  Which could have been interpreted as an expression of interest, right?  As a result, I have now begun avoiding Cafe Audrey.  Which is stupid and too bad, because I do really like it there and I’ve been thinking of actually getting my act together and playing at one of their open mic nights.)  But the really weird thing is that I’m stuck between feeling totally ok with this and really liberated and feeling kind of hopelessly depressed, but not for any normal reasons that make sense.    Anyhow, I don’t know.  Whatever.  School will start in a week or so and then I’ll be teaching and busy and I really do much better when I am superlatively busy and don’t have hours of navel-gazing time.

3.  Today we volunteered at the phone bank trying to convince Californians to vote no on Proposition 8, which is a stupid, hateful proposition that will be on the ballot in California this November and that, if passed, will reverse the recent decision to legalize same-sex marriage in the state.  And it turns out that cold-calling people was surprisingly less agonizing than I thought it would be, mostly because nobody answers their phone, and because I luckily didn’t end up stuck talking to any jackasses.  But the thing that shocks me was that most people did not even know that this issue was going to be on the ballot.  I can’t even vote here, and I am more aware than most of the people I talked to, all of whom were registered voters.  I just think it’s weird.  And discouraging.  And kind of frightening, really.

4.  Other things sure to depress:  war, famine, pestilence, death, the David Foster Wallace thing even though I’ve never actually read any of his books, horrific train accidents, and, on a far, far more trivial, flippant note, the remake of The Women, because what is the point of remaking perfection and replacing Norma Shearer with Meg Ryan and Joan Crawford with Eva Mendes?

So then I drank the last of the shiraz straight out of the bottle, watched some totally depressio X-Files episodes, and went to bed.