I pined. And I pined. And I pined.

HOlloween was fun. Not as whorey as I anticipated. No complaints here. I managed to: 1) Be questioned as to whether or not I was an asshole for Halloween by a car driver whilst on my bike, 2) Had an awkward encounter with a young man at a Jewel who was dressed as a hobbit and hanging out with his mother on Halloween, who recognized that I was Rosie the Riveter and asked how the women's work force was, to which I said, "Yep, good," to which he replied, "Don't get hit with a gurter," to which I replied. "Yeah, no," and 3) Had a giant centipede crawling down my arm while I melted butter for eggs with Rachel and Jason. I don't even know where it came from. I'm pretty sure it fell off the ceiling onto my arm. Or crawled up my pajama pant legs, across my t-shirt/breast, and onto my upper arm. Oh god. That was my least favorite part, and in fact, I keep having traumatic flashbacks and feeling phantom creatures running across my skin. Oh, I also saw Burn After Reading. Teeeeeeeeeeerrible. Blech. Almost as bad as the centipede.

Onto the main attraction. I don't know why I feel the need to share this, but... why not. From my Moleskine on October 30th:

"The past months have been good to me, in tough love sentiment. I've sponged up a lot of love from the world around me and it's overflowing there inside me. I eat too much. Maybe it's so the food absorbs some of the light. Either way, now I just feel like a mogwai who's had water poured on him. The bubble fur is just beginning to form and soon the blisters will be shooting off of me onto everyone else in the room because I just can't hold all the love in any longer. I have a choice few candidates whom I'd adore to see as the recipients. A choice few."

You decide if that's true or not.