April 16th, 2002

(no subject)

i decided to take the pregnancy test in the office restroom. At least I could look back and laugh "yeah, i found out about it in a highrise in midtown..." The box was double wrapped with Duane Reade bags, so it looked like tampons. I entered the green stall, locked the door, sat on the porcelin and began reading the instructions to see if I needed morning pee, or if I could do it right then. I heard a boss enter the restroom. Perfect...I didn't know if she knew if it was me or not, but I thought it would seem strange if I just stood their silently in the stall for the whole time she was there. Might as well unwrap the thing and get on with it. Hold the wick in the pee. replace the cap. wait. The boss leaves. i tried to figure out how I would handle the bad news. Would I tell anyone? Just Stacy? Would I tell JC? Would it be my own little secret abortion?

I have a good life. Why did I need to stress myself out by having unprotected sex? Hello smart girl. We've all been there. Smack. My eyes were squeezed shut. My body, such a mess from the birth control pills last month, was cramping all week. I'd been eating like a hound. My period started and then stopped. I was nervous. Twisted up in the inside. I was sure this time I'd fucked up. (no pun intended). Had it been three minutes? Close enough.....I squinted at the stick. One line.
negative. immense relief. I remembered it was a sunny warm beautiful day.

Condoms are good.
And required.
No moment is worth the stress.

(no subject)

going uptown to drop those videos from my DV to VHS. theres a screening later tonight, but im so exhausted. I had a 2 hour meeting this afternoon that left me with 2 hours of work to make up. I'll be to work at 8am tomorrow morning. Sigh.

Let's hope the VCR isnt giving attitude tonight.

(no subject)

the pear trees in brooklyn smell like heaven. a warm night. fragrant. heavy. pleasant. unlike new york. these streets are mine. the cars almost hit me, but they slow down. they know i need to walk slowly, and shed the shroud of winter. the sound of my shoes on the sidewalk is mine, steady, meaningful.

a warm summer night in april. no one to kiss, but no need. I have it all saved up for a chillier season.