how to tell it is autumn

the moody weather in my new mountain town confuses me. i bring sweaters, i wear tank tops, i get sniffles, i go barefoot. all in all it is causing a russian fixation. which is also spurred on by my name and random internal conversations with dagny taggert.All this is is exhausting. and causes me to fall asleep at 9:30 pm on a friday nite, thus missing a cocktail opportunity with a young man of questionable character.
must be autumn.


My intentions were higher, but my legs ached like tree trunks from standing around the vintage store all day helping frat boys dress up like Don Johnson.
I kept encouraging them to wear tighter pants and pinker shirts. i wanted to see a hot frat boy in something obcene. it isn't like tight pants are an anomoly these days. teenage boys walk around in girl pants all day long without blushing. they haven't even finished growing yet, but they have the confidence that their stuff is rightly represented. anyway. where was i?

Oh. i was exhausted after spending the day helping costume a cross section of the flagstaff population, and couldn't stay awake long enough to have cocktails with the only single, hetrosexual man in flagstaff that has invited me to do something with them.( well, besides the odd city worker that looked good on paper, and a particular someone that lives outside the city limits.)