i'm dreaming something about driving to china in a tomato truck, when something attacks me with four tiny paws, scampering from my feet to my face and back again. tomatoes have paws? "what time do you have class?" one pretty tomato is leaning against the door. if my mother's a tomato, then what am i? "eight." "it's nine." "wait, i don't have class on mondays." "it's tuesday." "tuesdays,i mean. right." she sighs as she softly closes the door, and i stretch slowly and sit up, twisting the blankets around my ankles and singing "sophia, i've just found this dog named sophia." sophie really likes it when i put her name into songs. i push to my feet and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the dusty mirror leaning against the wall in the corner. someone has printed "YUCK" in the dust. maybe my sister. or it could have been me, i don't know. it seems like an appropriate way to start the day, like a "GOOD MORNING, THIS IS HOW YOU LOOK." a bit boyish, maybe, in my monkey-print pajama bottoms. i squint and rub my eyes. YUCK, you have ghostly pale skin and bony elbows, and a tiny scar that will abide as a permanent memorial to half-hearted teenage rebellion. YUCK, your hair looks like a mop. YUCK, put a shirt on, already. i used to know this girl named jessey who planned to make her first million by tempting men into a building that had the appearance of a seedy strip club, then locking the door, stripping naked, and not letting anyone go home until they'd paid her to put her clothes back on. i told her i didn't know if it would work. "you haven't seen me naked!" she shoved a handful of jelly bellys into her mouth. jessey's best addiction was jelly bellys. the leaves in my tea are quite large and soggy, like wet maple leaves squishing underfoot after an autumn rain, or maybe like sad- looking spinach thawing in a strainer while its fate is determined. congratulations, you're going to be a dip! i quickly drink two pints (tea in pint glasses!) and wish i knew greek so that i might understand just what it is that's so funny in the next room. a boy walks in with a camera and asks if i'd mind if he got a few shots of me "just chillin'." i'm not "chillin.'" i'm learning greek, stupid. it's an immersion program. he circles the table, zooming in on my empty glass, my stack of books, my sunglasses,the sleeve of my red sweater smudging the ink on the crossword. he says it's for something called "teen forum." i am not a teen. what i am is hungry, so i look out the window and weigh my options. burgers, gyros, or booze, or i'll have to walk up to the next block. i remember that i am a twenty year old vegetarian, so i run downstairs for a glass of water and pretend not to notice the gorgeous scones and cheesecakes grinning hopefully at me from behind the glass. congratulations, i'm not going to eat you! call it will power. or lack of cash. slava is losing himself in the stark loveliness of rita the meter maid. i'm wishing for politely frosted bathroom windows and dry roasted peanuts. reggie trades in his bible for "the twentieth century in pictures" and a box of thank you notes, just in case he ever has cause to thank anyone for anything. love kirsten http://www.care2.com - Get your Free e-mail account that helps save Wildlife! +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+