The Jigtastic Journal of J. Na Na

That will be the official name of the musical based on my life. Anyway, I was on a crowded bus back to work from our apartment rental office, and found myself standing behind some short, spiky brown-haired hottie. If the smooth, olive-tanned skin on the back of his neck didn’t get me going, the shiny pink nail polish sure did me in. No, he was a boy, dressed like a boy in jeans and a t-shirt, but just that touch of femme-y-ness always drives me a little wild. Sort of like boys with a bit of a swish in their step. That’s why I never caught on to the whole "str8 acting" craze. And by the way, how gay is it to shorten the word "straight" with a cute number 8 as in "str8"? Get a grip, guys…

I briefly caught the headline of a local rag stating that San Francisco had put in its bid for the 2006/8 Olympics.

You know, no. San Francisco is as it is already overrun by tourists manipulating sidewalk space (the midwesterners) and superfluously posturing downtown (the Europeans). The last thing we need is to compound the problem on a global level by inviting the world to race, hurdle, and dive right in to what is already is a very, very small space.

It’s true. San Francisco is a thriving metropolis, but per capita, it’s pretty small compared to most other big cities.

And whatever money these tourists supposedly bring in to our economy, I certainly don’t see a red cent of it. Muni fare just went up a quarter. Strike notices, to both passengers and drivers, were angrily posted up on Muni bus shelters yesterday.

Hmmm…let’s see what else: I found my passport back at the music store I had last used it to sell CDs (thank you…)… I reckon my old roommate plans to keep my portion of the deposit… my money problems will start to clear up by the end of this month… natural sunlight in the bathroom is as appealing as natural childbirth in the delivery room… I extended an open invitation to my mom and grandma to come and visit me… I could really use a boyfriend about now… and remember–enjooooy yourself, it’s later than you think……