09-25-02 - 8:07 a.m.
another month of june gloom. much more of this chronic overcast and i'll need to be institutionalized. oddly enough, the fog bank hangs directly over the hotel, like some old-british-basil-rathbone-movie-bermuda-triangle of mist. drive a mile in any direction and it's sunny.
on the bright side, heasley called me from santa babs and vented for an hour about her hatred of men. she wants independence. she wants a baby. she wants liberation. she wants commitment. she wants happily ever after, without the male angst. she's afraid of growing old alone. she's afraid of growing old with the wrong person and becoming comfortable. if you ask me, she's been watching too goddamn much sex and the city.