It is Oscar night and I do not have TV. 364 days out of the year I do not mind, but tonight am miserable and would give anything for cable so could watch Joan Rivers special and then savor big event. Ah well...

Just hoping Charlize Theron does not win best actress. Did not see Monster so really have no right to make judgments, but am SO DAMN SICK of toothpick-like models turned actresses receiving awards for gaining 15 pounds and appearing without full makeup, while their less attractive but so much more talented peers are lucky to get a measly tampax commercial. Injustice of entertainment industry is disgusting and makes me have fantasies of shadowing various Hollywood types and sneaking Ensure powder into their vegetables and Nair into their shampoo.

Despite disgust with Hollywood establishment, am vowing to have TV next year so can dress up, drink champagne, and simulate red carpet in hallway. Practicing acceptance speech in mirror seems a lot less silly when surrounded by the proper accoutrements.

Did not have nice Valentine's Day AT ALL.

Was planning to go out to pleasant relaxing dinner with boyfriend and consume numerous pleasant relaxing cocktails along with delicious meal, revel in smug glow of actually having a boyfriend on V-Day after years and years of being single and bitter...unfortunately, fate decided to punish me for my smuggitude and I was felled with virulent stomach flu...met boyfriend, who was all dressed up and looking delectable and then proceeded to throw up on the street in a trash can (once) in plastic bags on the train on the way to house of boyfriend (twice) at house, in toilet (once) and then was feverish and moaning and fell asleep at 7:30. So romantic.

Am trying to take comfort in fact that boyfriend has now seen me throw up three times and apparently still likes me. Although he did say this morning that my breath smelled like a monkey's ass and I should not go near him (this was after copious teeth brushing and other desperate acts of oral hygiene.)

It's amazing, the looks people give you when you puke in public. I want to start a campaign for more tolerance and respect for those who engage in public regurgitation. After all, nobody does it on purpose.

Sadly, I think Valentine's Day will always be Vomit Day in my head from now on. And all the chocolate hearts in the world can't take away the memories.

Had interesting conversation at work today with crazy homeless man who told me how he planted his carrots two years ago and never touched them and then suddenly without warning they blossomed out of the ground and shot up to mammoth size at alarming speed, spewing theitrvitamin A rich lusciousness over all the surrounding territory.

He was very insistent about this...he did absolutely nothing in the two years between planting and miracle growth- just put on his sunglasses and walked away.

Am choosing to interpret this as veiled communique from the universe that I am doing something right in life even though fruits of labor have yet to come to fruition.

Either that or I should be alarmed that that was the most meaningful verbal interchange I've had today.

Have not blogged in 17 days- resolution to maintain contact with dear friends via blogging and internet usage will probably go way of all other good resolutions this year, i.e- sleep more (ha!) drink more water (ho!)use time more efficiently (tee-hee) and do things to advance my career instead of just thinking about them (oh...heh heh heh.)

Am cranky and tired and have just gotten a year older, a year closer to oblivion, and continue to waste my life in meaningless menial job where encounter mealy-mouthed mean people of means on daily basis.

Try to see good in all people but is tough when can only get four or five hours of sleep a night due to insane schedule and incompetence of frickin' public transportation which gobbles up all my free time. Plan to title my autobiography "Slowly growing embittered while waiting for bus." Not a book I'd ever voluntarily read. Don't think anyone else will either.

Ah well. Tomorrow is another day.