(no subject)

I had a dream last night that I was French, and working in this little bistro near Wall Street and the Stock Exchange. Coming home from a party with a guy named Mike that I haven't seen since I was fourteen, and some annoying girl followed me making rude comments about my weight. When I called her an anorexic bitch, her boyfriend showed up. They eventually tracked me down in my quaint bistro, and I had to call the police. They had some hippie friend who tried to burn down the building, and the dectectives from Law & Order came out.

That's the second weird Law & Order dream I've had this month.

I wish I was a French woman with a bistro.

My shoulder aches so very badly.

I'm going out of town, and away from the internet.