Some baby carrots are not actually tiny carrots, they are carrots that have been chopped up and shaped. My world is forever changed.

I wish I had a name that could be shortened to a one-letter acronym. I'd have been so lucky to be named Jennifer (J!) or Becca (B!). My name? Paige. P. Pee. I can't be Pee, I can't B P.

I'm trying to figure out which I hate more: this apartment; the process of moving; or paying people to do something I could do myself.

I can't believe that I was commissioned to write poetry about veal.

Evidently, when I don't have school stuff to occupy me at work, I spend my time going back and forth between looking at grad schools and wombats. Hey, maybe I'll apply to an MSc program in Gender and Sexuality studies BUT LOOK AT THIS CUTE MOTHERFUCKER RIGHT HERE

I have taken to baking in the evenings to get my apartment warm enough so that I can get to sleep at night. At first I thought this might not be the most practical solution, but I do make a mean cranberry-zucchini muffin, and I don't pay for utilities anyway.

I am DONE.

This certainly is the year of sick and death.

I just want to sleep until next Friday.

In the process of writing a paper on celibacy as a queer space, I've had to read far more misogynistic Christian mythology than I ever knew existed. I feel like I'm at a total disadvantage because, not being raised in a religious context, I have no concept of religious sexual ethics. Do I have to capitalize 'the Fall'?

"When Rita Joe first come to the city, she told me... The cement made her feet hurt."
- Eileen Joe, "The Ecstasy of Rita Joe"

Why does blueberry yogurt even exist?

I really hope Jason hasn't knocked me up, because my cloth pads came today. I'm excited to menstruate!

In other news, classes start Tuesday, and I'm nervous about having to pretend to be legitimate again when all I've been doing lately is shopping and watching Pepper Ann.

I flushed my menstrual cup down the toilet today. I feel pretty stupid about it, but it's given me an excuse to upgrade from a Keeper to a DivaCup, and order some organic cotton pantyliners in leopard print. Gosh, my vee is going to be so hip.

I can't believe how unhappy I was two years ago, but I guess that's a good thing.

Evidently, taking an antacid achieves basically the same stomach-pain-relieving effect in the middle of the night as does the combination of smoking pot, drinking peppermint tea, and sitting in the shower. Although, my dreams when I fall back asleep aren't nearly as good.

1. Does anyone have the Ani DiFranco song "Jesus vs. Buddha"? I used to have it, so I know it exists, but I currently can't find it anywhere.

2. Recommend to me some music! I pretty much only have Belle and Sebastian, Kimya, Moldy Peaches, the Mamas and the Papas, Mountain Goats, Tim Fite, and Ween right now. I'm having a hard time remembering music that I like, and an even harder time remembering music that I've never heard.

This morning I played with kittens, and them came home to discover that my apartment has central air. It's been a good day.

If I got married at City Hall, and as we were leaving, the first thing that my newly legalized forever and ever partner did was bitch to the parking lot attendant about paying $5 for parking, I would hop out of the car and file for annulment.

Christ, people.

It came to my attention today that I have almost enough courses to have earned a minor in Sexual Diversity studies, so I'm tacking that on to my degree. I didn't think it was possible to create a degree more practically useless than a double major in English and Philosophy, but I'd say that a double major in English and Philosophy with a minor in Sexual Diversity studies probably fulfills that.