Did I ask for a sodding hug? I think not.

L invited me to join her and N at the lake for an extended weekend. I'm debating whether I need Wednesday to pack or if I should take as few off days as possible. I like saving them for late in the year when weather deters me from making the icy drive in. L has been on again off again with her girlfriend, so the likelihood of weekend insanity is high. N is on another diet. Between the two we are sure to see binging of some sort or other. Perhaps margarita mix is in order. Hm.

Other shit: I'm working on two books at once and another plot has come forward to torment me. Currently, m/m plots abound. I'm beginning to wonder where my m/f plots are. You'd think as a woman who rather appreciates the male form, I'd be just as likely to formulate a heterosexual plot. Perhaps that is the problem. I like the male form far too well.

Other-er shit: Yesterday a man who has vowed to hate me and avoid me, found it necessary to hug me tight three times. Not quick, good-to-see-you hugs, but long, clinging oh-god-I-might-drown hugs.

No death or special ceremony to warrant it, just a company picnic. I didn't have much say in the matter as I was grasped before I had say-so. Unfortunately, it was also immediately visible by my supervisor, D. Not sure what to make of the hugging incident but I'm beginning to think either the lemonade was spiked or he was.

Note to self: "Mia, perhaps the pink-slip is on the way and he's been informed before you. Toss out yesterday's perfume."

Raising Johnson's Cane

April Fool's day should be a religious holiday. I rather enjoy pranks and am quite disheartened that I drew completely blank on providing my personal entertainment yesterday. In honor, shall celebrate April Fool's day today. No one will expect it. It will make the set-up five times more pleasurable.

Tonight is bar night with L and N. Have not persisted in the tradition lately and am most ready to raise Cain. Or is it Kane? Cane? Hm. Whoever the hell he is, I am fully preparing to raise him. I leave you to interpret. Anatomy, seance, wrath, partying-spirit... your mind can conjure as it will. I'll not refuse it.

Something bizarre occurred. Johnson vacuumed with boxer-briefs yesterday. Winter is ending. One would think that if ever there were a moment to vacuum with clothing, it would be in the depths of January. Perhaps Johnson was bloated, premenstrual male, or feeling fat. Have no idea what to make of his pattern change. Called L immediately to comment and had to snap photo with cell phone as proof.

L pointed out that Johnson still had his wanker bits pulled through. She figured it was a fashion statement. Either way, he succeeded in creating a mystery which in turn made me look at him all the longer to puzzle on it.

Note to self: "Mia, should reward Johnson for semi-clothed state. He has at least made an attempt. Cross courtyard and slip a congratulatory card under his door. Hallmark claims to possess a card for every occasion."

Poor Washer

Had no expectation of the extent to which Claimed would be received. Am still amazed at the sheer number of favorable letters coming in. My thanks to all.

Spent weekend completing book two of above series. New neighbors have not humored me with interesting gossip as yet. Will continue to hope. M, across, appears terrified of their closed door. Darts glances and scuttles away like a rat. She has been neglecting the washer again. Poor washer. Plan to decorate open lid with multi-colored condoms and "cum again" banner found at local sex shop. Yes, am cruel. Tell me you don't wish to be a fly on that wall.

L has new girlfriend. Not sure of continued duration of relationship, as girlfriend appears clingy. L hates clingy. Heard girlfriend whine regarding L's time spent with me. Have decided I hate L's girlfriend and will create voodoo likeness should she get out of line.

Note to self: "Mia, play with L's hair in girlfriend's presence to annoy girlfriend. Mia, L, and N are package deal. Better she become aware of such before L drops her cold."

Of Nipples and Pearls

Local Y has pole dancing class. Other bad exercise ideas: nipple yoga, penis scrying, belly dancing for anorexics, belly dancing for morbidly obese, fuck it, belly dancing for anyone not Shakira.

Am considering nipple piercing. May have to get stupid-drunk to achieve but suspect am a closet masochist. Will try decorative clamps first. Friend mentioned pearl thong. Sounded intriguing. Hm. Wonder if wearing pearl thong will cause clacking of beads to be heard coming from skirt. Must ask L.

Ah. Update. D's eyes are pale gray. Strange star burst at outer edge darkening to pale green. Made idiot of self by staring. May have mumbled "fuck me" in response to question. Would explain knit brow of confusion.

Note to self: "Mia, must remember not to wear pearl thong around neck. May give wrong impression, or rather, correct impression too early. Am still hopeful of catching D's eye by normal methods."