Finally: A west coaster who has seen the light.

I am so very upset about yesterdays big breakup. I just can’t believe it, really. I mean, they were getting along so well, and their future seemed bright and full of promise, at least to me.

Best wishes to both NASA and the Mars Rover. I hope they find happiness and start talking again soon.

Remember when I sliced my toe open? It was after my roommate’s failed assassination attempt, in which he polished the kitchen tile a little too vigorously. Of course you remember.

The cut is right on the front of my left big toe. It’s taking some damn sweet time healing, as it gets stepped on all day. If you’re going to get a cut anywhere, I recommend it not be on a part of your body you use regularly.

Because of this toe slicing, I’ve learned that an extremely unpleasant way to start your day is to stub that sliced toe against your bathtub as you’re climbing in to take a shower.

You’ll do what you always do when you sustain injury, which is tell yourself that pain doesn’t exist, as it’s only a signal your brain sends to your body to warn you that you may be damaging yourself. As admirable as that is, it doesn’t stop the feelings of extreme unpleasantness, and you involuntarily find yourself raising two clenched fists into the air, and emitting a silent (it’s early, and people are sleeping), prolonged scream of agony that can best be transcribed as “FUUUUUUUUUUHHHHH ARGGGGGGG GYUH!”

And then you pick up the pieces and move on.

In workplace news, I am currently at odds with my coworker Jessica over a dispute involving a koosh ball.

On Wednesday, I threw at her the koosh ball in question. She took it into her custody, and refused to give it back. As we were walking to our cars that night, I acted as if I were extraordinarily sad because “I had a really great week, and it was all because of that koosh ball.”

She insisted that she didn’t know where it was, and I insisted I was despondent without my koosh. When we reached our cars, she revealed that she had it all along, and threw it at me. I threw it back at her, and she grabbed it, jumped into her car and sped from the parking lot with a squeal.

The next day, I found a note demanding 30 cents for the release of ol’ kooshy. One of his kooshes was taped to the note, the same way a ransom victims’ thumb might be sent as a threat.

I responded that I didn’t negotiate with terrorists, and insisted that she return the koosh and allow inspectors, or face the consequences. Hours of silence preceded my finding a black and white photograph of the koosh with the words “Help me! Save me!” desperately scrawled upon it.

This will not stand. Or it may. I haven’t decided how much I care.

The other day, in my readings, I came across a reference to penises.

More specifically, a reference to the distinguishing characteristics of penises. That’s a funny little phrase and concept I’ve let swim to the surface of my head ever since the Lewinsky scandal, the idea that any one penis can be distinguished from another beyond the obvious of big/small, thick/thin, yours/mine, etc. I guess it makes sense, but I’ve never given it much thought due to my lifelong experiment with heterosexuality.

So. I began thinking about my penis. Is there anything in particular about it that would qualify as a distinguishing characteristic? I certainly think so. As a favor to you, I’m going to publish here a list of them, so that you may identify it if you should encounter a penis and aren’t sure whose it is.

- Leans a little to the right. Not too unusual!

- It’s been described as ‘smooth.’ That confused me. Are others lumpy?

- Freckle on the right side.

- Harvard MFA, Poetry

- Baritone

- Scorpio

- Good with kids.