I also seem to be gaining psychic rapport with my mp3 player.

The sound my black leather fuck-you boots make when I'm walking in the lobby of large expensive buildings.

I, too, love walking fast. And I walk -- by Chicago standards, at least -- very, very fast. Mostly it gets me nasty comments from strangers here, though, as I am apparently violating a secret code of the midwest by moving any faster than genial meander.

Currently I love putting my hair up in curlers and watching myself get an inch or so of volume onto my normally flat hairs.

Hee. Y'all are funny. My secret delight is that if I get unexpected money, (for instance, I got a scratch off lottery ticket for Christmas and won 20 dollars)I usually spend it on just me, for whatever I want. Nothing for the kids, or the Mr, just greedy me. I got this from my mother who has had this philosophy her entire marriage.

Mine is getting into bed with tights on. It feels so good!

the Whelk, pix or they don't exist

Another fast walker here - I love passing everyone and feeling a bit smug because I walk faster and am, therefore, superior.

Crispy fried eggs (sunnyside up) on super soft white bread with the butter used to fry them poured over the top. Yay heartattack!

I like listening to the worst, most awful, mass-produced pop schlock to and from work in the car. I crank it up super loud and cruise.

Just a month ago I listened to NPR and had for years. I remember Bob Edwards last day on Morning Edition with crystal clarity (I cried).

But something in my brain shifted, and now it is Rhianna and Usher and Katy Perry and Pink. It makes me feel all peppy and powerful when I hit the big gray building, which seems to be paying off in the way people perceive and treat me.

I don't feel as smart, but nobody gives a fuck about that.

I also like wearing tall heels, because in my female-dominated workplace it makes me taller than everyone else (naturally 5'7", 5'10" in my favorite wedges).

Edwards's

I'm sorta drunk, sorry.

Watching people walk by from our apartment windows. We're on the third floor and have a good view, and no one can see me watching. (Don't worry, I don't own a rifle.)

It makes me ridiculously happy to have a horse who clearly likes me better than everyone else. Kat will do things for me that other people can't even begin to get her to do, and for me she'll do them without hesitation. It's actually not a great thing in a few ways: sometimes I might be sick, or out of town, or otherwise unavailable, and Kat still needs to be cared for, and needs to cooperate with other people if she were to get sick or injured while I'm not available. If something permanently happened to me, Kat would have a difficult life. If she had to go back into a boarding situation (where I wasn't her primary caretaker anymore), she'd have a difficult life.

But I didn't make her this way on purpose; it's just the result of how she was treated before I got her. I wasn't even aware of it until people started complaining that she's impossible to handle when I'm not present. After all, for me--or even just if I'm standing there--she's a kitten. And for now, it's okay.

And it seriously feeds all kinds of ego and pride to have a one-person horse, it really does.

The first time I see the main menu screen of a new video game I am filled with the giddy glee of a kid at the front of the line about to get on a rollercoaster.

Sometimes if I have a nice fire going, I just sleep on the couch, instead of going to bed.

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