Monday, February 13, 2012


Seen waiting for the Brown Line at Fullerton at about 8:20 a.m. 

Cassandra is the personification of evil—a cross between the grim reaper and a wicked witch. She is swathed head to toe in black; black fur rings her face like some kind of dead, hopeless wreath. And that face! Glaring eyes, knifepoint cheekbones, lips pressed into a horrible scowl. One glance from Cassandra and your stomach drops, your heart skips a beat, your muscles tense. You cannot move, trapped in her merciless stare until she chooses to release you.

A couple pushing a stroller exits the elevator. Cassandra stalks like a shadow behind them to the edge of the platform. Fairy tales taunt you in the back of your mind—remember how wicked witches like to treat little children! You want to stop her, but it is too late; she has turned to face the child.

She is met with curious eyes and rosy apple-cheeks. When he coos at Cassandra, the hate drains from her eyes. Her hard face melts, and what was sharp becomes soft. She smiles and waves at the infant.

“How you doin’, baby?” 

This weekend was lots of fun. We hosted a CRAZY bunch of couchsurfers, and I partied with them in Boystown. (Specifically at Roscoe's.) I don't do that too often, so it was definitely a good time. And yesterday I stayed in my pajamas all day. I highly recommend doing so. It was delightful.

Anyway, wine and drag queens tonight! And swing dancing at Fizz, hopefully.


  1. omg I love that last line SO MUCH. I can't convey the amount of liking.

  2. Mostly because I hear the emphasis on the "you."


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