(backdated from yin-yang journal)

Soda helped me clean my room yesterday. Today I went shopping, brushed up on the Bard, and watched most of "Kitsunegari". Last night was the much-advertised shag-fest, although for the first hour or so it was naught but carpet-fuzz. I also learned that randomly seeing Christel from a distance (I was flitting out to cool off or to the Cache, and she was on duty) depresses me.

Tonight is Karaoke Night. I shall show up to peer at the spectacle and partake of the refreshments.

Evening often makes me glum. I'm stalled in "ZK13TM.6-13", River's wonderful counsel of Tuesday evening is wearing off, and so on. It's not quite true that I did all I could. I could have been less of a vengeful bitch. Two months, River says, two months more of just him and me, and he would have gotten possessive, and forbade me to see other men. Call me what you will, but a touch of possessiveness is welcomed as long as he puts up with the reciprocal, my requiring him to be mine only.

I sang. I bombed -- The Boy from NYC. I shall next murder "I Will Survive".