May 30: The light and noise from a television keeps me up, but it puts you to sleep.
May 29: I love my little yard, but hate mowing its grass.
May 28: I'd gotten bigger than I'd ever been without noticing until I looked down one day and saw how large my belly had grown.
May 27: It feels like any response I might have doesn't matter when I'm being talked at instead of talked to.
May 13: People use being drunk as an excuse to say things they can plausibly deny when they're sober.
May 8: If gossip actually was a currency, I'd be a millionare.
March 30: What big eyes you have!
March 29: Sometimes we accidentally amplify each other's anxieties.
Feb. 22: As we lay there, trying to meditate, I felt the sun on my face, but he said he felt the sun radiate out from inside of him.
Feb 17: Stress will eat away at you, especially if you try to be an impenetrable fortress.
Feb. 3: I did all the dishes, even though I know they'll just stack back up again.
Jan. 18: I'm working on thinking before I speak.
Dec. 27: I'm stuck, blinded by the past, not sure where I should go next.
Dec. 26: My dream house is full of books.
Dec. 21: I'd like to shut my brain down for a while.
Dec. 20: I would love another dessert! (But my waist line wouldn't.)
Nov. 26: We may both be lost at sea right now, but the land's in sight.
Nov. 25: I was holding on so tightly to being upset I forgot how to step back and look at what I was upset about.
Nov. 24: Keep it together.
Nov. 23: I'm ready for a vacation.
Nov. 22: Sunlight does wonders.
Nov. 21: Caring too much can consume you.
Nov. 20: Fatty food is too delicious to resist.
Nov. 19: Sometimes I can't keep my mouth shut. Other times I don't know how to open it up.
Nov. 18: Think bouyant thoughts.
Nov. 16: I've got a mechanical heart.
Nov. 15: Draw on a smile and give it time to grow.
Nov. 14: Cold afternoons make me hungry.
Nov. 13: I want to burrow under the blanket and wait for winter to be over.
Nov. 12: Certain music makes me feel panicky.
Nov. 11: I wish I knew the future.
Oct. 25: (A drawing of a snake with large teeth.)
Oct. 23: My arm hurts... (probably because I dropped an air conditioner on it).
Oct. 22: I waited way past when I should have taken out my air conditioning unit because it is such a pain in the butt to remove it.
Oct. 16: If I ignore it, it'll go away.
Oct. 15: Sometimes I need saving, but sometimes I'll save you.
Oct. 14: I get so wrapped up in what I'm doing, I forget to poke my head out sometimes.
Oct. 13: I almust fell through this hole you tore out.
Oct. 12: I tried to read between the lines.
Oct. 11: I start worrying and send myself into a spiral.
Oct. 10: The weather is getting colder. I've got to bundle up, so I don't get too depressed.
Oct. 9: Normally I'd run away as fast as I could, but this time I'm running right into the middle of the scary stuff.
October 8: Love will lead to an assembly line of other emotions.
Oct. 7: Rain may be good for the crops, but it makes me melancholy.
Oct. 6: I feel washed out... unsure.
Oct. 4: I'm so tired of being afraid of what people might say.
Oct. 3: Thanks for saying, you'd take me places.
Oct. 2: I am nervous about feeling so nervous.
Oct. 1: You've introduced me to lots of new stuff, but my favorite (so far) has been the burger made out of ground up bacon.
Sept. 30: Cities frighten me. (But so do lots of things.)
Sept. 29: I missed you.
Sept. 28: It's not easy being a robot on a planet full of humans.
Sept 27: I'm trying to resist my natural inclination to be negative.
Sept. 26: I've run out of luck.
Sept. 25: You are my connection to the outside world.
Sept 24: My thumb still hurts from when I bent it back against your chest.
Sept. 23: Our bodies don't belong to us any more.
Sept. 22: I am glad, after the anger passes, that I didn't do anything stupid.
Sept. 21: I am tired of being looked at like some strange specimen from another solar system.
Sept. 20: I feel crowded after spending too much time with other people.
Sept. 19: Compliments feel like sweaters for your insides.
Sept. 18: Trying to figure out new technology makes me feel old and like I might go extinct before I figure out how to make it do what I want it to.
Sept. 17: Stop looking at me like I've got two heads.
Sept. 15: The lid fell off my trash can, but I was too afraid to replace it just in case there was a rat inside.
Sept. 13: I want the end of the month to hurry up and come so I can see you again.
Sept. 8: When you give yourself too much time to think your head rarely goes to happy places.
Sept. 6: When you were little your mother asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up. You thought about it and said, "a brontosaurus."
Sept. 5: I tried to resist liking you so much, but it crept up on me.
Sept. 3: I hate bugs (and camping).
Aug. 21: I almost forgot the anniversary was coming up... until someone mentioned, "September," and I remembered why this time of year is always so rough.
Aug. 18: "It will never work," she said, "We're both robots." "That's why it will," he said.
Aug. 17: Lazy evening watching tv with a borrowed puppy cuddled up beside me are the best.
Aug. 15: There's been a string of violent muggings on the streets of my usually very safe neighborhood recently. They make me want to say inside forever.
Aug. 11: I expect to hear that my house is cluttered. Instead I'm told that it feels like home.
Aug. 10: I cut a hole to look through, but I'd rather not climb out just yet.
Aug. 9: I can feel the darkness coming for me.
Aug. 8: I worry I wasn't made to be part of a pair.
Aug. 20: I get all giggley when I think about you.
Dec. 14: Music makes the bad days okay and the good days even better.
Dec. 13: I'm afraid I may never grow up.
Dec. 12: I want to write, but when I sit down to do it, I get distracted or I can't get more than a paragraph to come out.
Dec. 10: I spend so much time thinking about the things I need to do sometimes I forget to do them.
Dec. 9: I accused you of stealing the book I was reading before I discovered, we own two copies.
Dec. 8: I can't help smiling when I see you.
Dec. 7: She tried to keep a level head, but the flowers bloomed when he walked in the room.
Dec. 6: "Some of my best friends are a little fishy," said the mermaid.
Dec. 5: I try not to spread gossip, but I love knowing the juicy bits.
Nov. 27: My sister's hand glitters when she wiggles her fingers.
Nov. 26: I am happy here.
Nov. 25: I didn't let my eyes get any larger than my tummy this year.
Nov. 24: My belly's full of turkey.
Nov. 23: Talent's worthless without some ambition to go with it.
Nov. 22: I can't decide whether I'm awful at being a good friend or good at being an awful one.
Nov. 21: I miss those first kisses.
Nov. 20: You just have to smile and I forget what it was that I wanted to tell you.
Nov. 19: I'm too full of little lies to function properly.
Nov. 18: Don't worry, it's just me and the cats.
Nov. 17: It feels like my head is full of cotton.
Nov. 16: Everyone has some darkness in them, a voice that says, "Go ahead..."
Nov. 15: I've lost my focus.
Nov. 14: Time stands still in the museum.
Nov. 13: Sometimes I wish I could travel back in time and give myself advice.
Nov. 12: There's just something about an empty house that makes the words want to come out.
Nov. 11: Some days, especially when the weather is gray, I feel disconnected.
Nov. 10: I worry about you just as much as you worry about me, but that just comes with loving someone.
Aug. 21: I'm a world class worrier. (I got my first gray hair in grade school.)
June 9: I'm positive I had common sense at some point. I'm just not sure where it went.
May 14: I get sick of television, but I feel old when I catch myself thinking, "I don't like it because it's loud and nothing happens."
May 12: My happiness is contagious.
May 11: There's something in my brain that lets me separate saying awful things from being an awful person.
May 10: When I have a lot of fun sometimes I forget to eat.
May 9: I am sure any second everyone will realize I'm not actually cool and stop speaking to me.
May 8: When I finally learn how to know when to leave I have a feeling you all will like me more.
April 8: When I don't write anything for a while my brain starts to fall apart.
April 4: Jim and I dressed the cat up as a shark and put it in the bathroom to say, "Good Morning!" while my sister was brushing her teeth.
April 1: I can parallel park if no one's watching, so could you please close your eyes?
March 31: Lately I've felt like nothing can hurt me.
March 29: I still can't believe I've made so many friends and all I had to do was move to Baltimore!
March 27: I never thought this would happen. Not to me at least, but I can't remember what color your eyes were. I look at pictures and think, if I could just fall asleep, I know I'd see you.
March 26: Something as simple as walking on the sidewalk can be delightful if you're doing it after drinking just enough.
March 9: Sometimes I make simple stuff way too complicated.
March 8: I love the easiness of us. How easily "you" and "me" became a "we."
Feb. 28: It's off how the smell of something can be so connected to memory. I wore a perfume I hadn't worn in at least a year the other day and felt like my old, less awesome self.
Feb. 24: You tell me you still read my comic, but you don't care much for the new stuff.
Feb. 23: Sometimes I spend money I don't have yet.
Feb. 22: I can hear you sleeping down on the couch in the dark and even though I'd like to hear you sleeping next to me, I know if I woke you, you wouldn't be able to fall back asleep.
Sept. 22: If cats aren't supposed to wear clothes, how come they look so cute in them?
Sept. 6: I don't mind lending stuff out because it means there's less stuff in the house.
Sept. 2: I wish I were lazier when it came to making gazpacho and didn't dice everything by hand. (...but you love it so much.)
Aug. 10: Living simply is harder than it looks. I finally get rid of something and end up buying twice as much stuff to replace it.
July 14: I've learned it's less stressful to stay flexible and to always write our plans in pencil.
July 12: My brain storms lately have been more like electrical outages.
June 2: "These aren't horns on my head," she said. "They're just curls."
May 24: The less sleep I get, the uglier and stupider I become.
May 20: The heat is starting to seep in through the window panes.
May 16: I read once that dreaming about a house means you're dreaming about yourself.
May 7: I love my mom and wish there were a way to let her worry about us less.
May 5: Our mailman has found new levels of laziness. He threw the mail over the back gate. I found it on the ground near the garage when I went to take out the recycling. Apparently our netfliz is like a newspaper. (Just throw it anywhere and hope it doesn't rain.)
April 28: "I don't argue with anyone," he said, "because I'm always right."
April 27: I get grumpy and forget to tell you how much I appreciate the heck out of you.
April 24: It's rained too much today. Make it go away.
April 22: Standing in the sunshine on a beautiful April day makes me feel like everything is going to be okay.
April 21: If I could blend in to the wallpaper I'd fit in to any room.
April 20: I miss you.
April 19: I swam to the other side of hunger.
April 18: Sometimes I like to get dressed up even though I know I'm not going out.
April 17: If the internet's taught me anything it's that accomplishing stuff isn't impressive until you show someone else.
April 16: The curtains weren't long enough, so I added a row of robbons to the ends. Now the cat likes to sit on the window sill and poke her head out from under them.
April 15: I feel detached today.
April 12: You'd fallen fast asleep on the couch, so I brought down a bunch of blankets and pillows and made a bed on the floor beside you.
April 11: Not arguing'seasy since I never see you.
April 9: Coming home from school, I used to pretend my driveway was a river, full of piranhas and crocodiles.
April 7: (Drawing of a person wearing water wings helping another person, who has a giant sea creature behind them, out of the ocean.)
March 19: I have to be reminded to go outside. I forget sometimes.
March 18: My ex lives in the house where we met.
March 14: We are just robots in flesh suits.
March 13: Am I pretty yet?
Feb. 4: Hyacinths remind me of home and the boxwood garden we played in as children.
Feb. 3: Let's be friends.
Feb. 2: My mood's influenced by what's on television.
Feb. 1: Love is less like the Loch Ness monster and more like a cup of tea on a cold day.
Jan. 29: If you start thinking about where you should be, you won't be happy where you are.
Jan. 28: This little piggy wasn't much of a romantic.
Jan. 27: If I were a doll my accessories would include... flower hair clips! TV! books! lobster oven mitts!
Jan. 26: Hi is all you need to say.
Jan. 25: I hate having to resort to the telephone to get something done.
Jan. 23: I still look up to you.
Jan. 22: Calm thoughts. Think calm thoughts.
Jan. 21: I got so busy I forgot to sleep.
Jan. 20: The grumpies will get you if you're not careful.
Jan. 19: The words are forming, but I'm afraid it's not fiction.
Jan. 18: My jokes are funnier when you're drunk.
Jan. 17: We work because we're so different.
Jan. 16: Books are best when you finish them in the tub.
Jan. 15: Cleaning a house is a never ending job.
Jan. 14: I found my watch (it had been missing for a week) when I moved the bed away from the wall.
Jan. 13: I moved the bed against the wall to make more room, but it's been giving me bad dreams.
Jan. 12: I can't wait to organize my closet. I just have to wait for them to finish building it.
Jan. 10: I missed you, ice cream.
Jan. 8: Whenever I hear the dog next door barking I think, "People are here," before I realize, I live in the city now, not the country.
Jan. 7: A skunk would make a great hat.
Jan. 5: I don't know what my insides look like. I just know they're all squished in there together.
Jan. 4: Sure, I'm magical, but this horn is giving me a headache.
Jan. 2: If I were a bee, I wouldn't sting. I'd buzz around thinking bee things.
Dec. 31: I've been reading Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters and wishing for face tentacles.
Dec. 30: Maybe if we agreed to a blank slate (Do over?) we could go back to how things used to be.
Dec. 29: The city gives me bad dreams.
Dec. 28: You said I looked nice in the necklace you gave me; then gently told me I had it on backwards.
Dec. 27: I'm not ready yet.
Dec. 26: I can't help it. I get annoyed.
Dec. 25: I always said I'd never clean out the cat's litter box. But it's Christmas and I didn't get her anything.
Dec. 24: My Christmas list was eighteen names long this year. It's official. No one else is allowed to get married or have children.
Dec. 23: I need to shovel myself out before I can go anywhere.
Dec. 22: "I'm an athiest," he said, "I don't believe in marriage."
Dec. 21: Making a list. Checking it five or six times. Finding out who I still have to buy a present for.
Dec. 18: The cat got into a hole in the floor and tried to climb ("Bad cat! Don't do that!") out of the ceiling while I was making eggs.
Dec. 17: "Why are boys so hard to shop for?"
Dec. 16: I couldn't figure out how to use the new remote, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing because instead of watching television, I got more done.
Dec. 15: Somewhere in this pile of stuff is your Christmas present.
Dec. 14: Usually I look forward to you. This year, I'm not so sure.
Dec. 13: We are loosely bound.
Dec. 11: I had a dream I went back to high school because I was bored.
Dec. 10: I used to feel like a goon in my glasses.
Dec. 9: I don't mind doing the laundry in the basement. I do mind that one of the contractors pulled the cord out of the light socket and now I have to do the laundry in the dark.
Dec. 8: When I'm feeling blue I just put Old Crow Medicine Show's "Wagon Wheel" on repeat and wait for it to get old. (It never does.)
Dec. 7: I like to make lists and plan things out, ("I don't know. We might leave tomorrow.") but you're too busy to tell me what's happening.
Dec. 6: What's the point of going to bed if it's empty?
Dec. 5: Does french vanilla still count as plain yogurt?
Dec. 4: Sitting around, waiting for you to come home is boring. I am going to start writing again.
Dec. 3: It's 8:20 time to watch some more television.
Dec. 2: While the contractors are working, we've got one room full of two room's things. And the mess had finally gotten to me.
Dec. 1: The cat likes to knock the mouse off my desk.
Nov. 30: I woke up angry and sad. It must have been something I dreamt.
Nov. 28: I get nervous ("OOEEOOEEOOEEOOEEOO") about the noises in the street.
Nov. 27: I wish I were better at figuring out how you feel.
Nov. 26: I haven't decided yet whether I'll be a cowboy or an Indian for Thanksgiving.
Nov. 25: I should work out today, but I know I won't.
Nov. 24: I keep accidentally setting off the burgler alarm. I feel like the boy who cried wolf.
Nov. 23: If you had your way we'd eat hot dogs every day.
Nov. 22: I time television shows to see how long I've been exercising.
Nov. 20: The last book in a series is rarely as good as the first.
Nov. 19: "I'm bored." said my brain. The TV and internet's been down all day. (I miss them.)
Nov. 18: Even superman gets sad sometimes.
Nov. 17: I can't find my cell phone. I tried calling it, but I just ended up talking to myself.
Nov. 16: My brain is floating away.
Nov. 14: There was a rat in the house, but the electricians chased it out.
Nov. 12: You and I used to have a connection. Now we're not even friends.
Nov. 10: Today's the day my momma ("Hey everybody! Sorry I'm late. Those umbilical cords just won't let you go.") jumped out of her mom.
Nov. 9: Stop it, stomach.
Nov. 8: I have never been good at falling asleep in an empty house.
Nov. 7: You're busy enough for both of us, so I'll just stay home and make things out of glitter and flowers.
Nov. 6: I am not defined by you. We define each other.
Nov. 4: I have three pairs of pants I'm comfortable in and the dryer's broken. (Sounds like a job for Febreze.) Or you could just LINE DRY them.
Nov. 3: The day crawled sluggishly by.
Nov. 2: You shouldn't fall asleep in front of the TV if you don't want your toenails painted pink.
Oct. 31: "uh Oh" I know it's a fashion faux pas to wear a Halloween costume more than once, but my Wonder Woman outfit wants to come out of the closet.
Oct. 30: I'm not sure how many trick or treaters to expect, so I guess it's better to buy more candy than less.
Oct. 28: Inertia.
Oct. 27: I saw pictures of my brother's halloween costume (scrap metal unicorn horn/bubblewrap?) and was totally jealous.
Oct. 26: I had a delicious piece of lamb for dinner, but now it feels like there are huge chunks of meat, stuck between my teeth.
Oct. 23: I made a mask to hide my face.
Oct 22: I scrunched myself to the bottom of the bed because that's where the covers were.
Oct. 21: I try to find the quiet spaces in a day.
Oct. 20: Olives make everything better.
Oct. 19: I could pay ten dollars for a special hanger to hand my belts on or I could make one out of a regular coat hanger and some florist's wire.
Oct. 17: Martha Stewart wants me to make things. ("Snaaakes made out of ribbon! Skulls covered in glitter!")
Oct. 16: It is wet and gray. I don't want to go outside today.
Oct. 15: I'm having a hard time finding a reason ("Shopping's done. Trash is out. It's cold.") to leave the house lately.
Oct. 13: I got up too early this morning. My head feels goopy.
Oct. 11: Coming up with an awesome idea for a halloween costume is easy. ("If only I could genetically engineer myself four extra legs.") Actually making it, however is a lot harder.
Oct. 10: I heard a lot of hollering outside the window and blamed the frat house next door, but it turned out to be a marathon going on down the street.
Oct. 9: Me and a sewer grate made friends last night.
Oct. 8: Please don't tease me today. My fuse is shorter than normal.
Oct. 6: We drove and the road kept widening and narrowing.
Oct. 4: There's nothing quite like the smell of burned cookies to lull you ("Just like mom used to make.") to sleep.
Oct. 3: It's much simpler if you visit your family and I visit mine.
Oct. 2: I don't live there any more, but I'm still going home.
Oct. 1: It's not so nice having a bathroom skylight when my neighbors hire roofers to make repairs and I can hear them up there.
Sept. 30: I know what the weather is like by stepping into the bathroom with a skylight.
Sept 29: We don't always get along.
Sept. 28: Tivo sidled in and filled a void I didn't even know existed.
Sept. 27: Next week is already creeping up on me.
Sept. 26: The day went downhill.
Sept. 25: Sometimes I wonder if I love you because my mom or dad loved you or because you really are awesome.
Sept 24: I didn't realize how fat my face had gotten until I saw it on my new Driver's License.
Sept 23: I like storing stuff in see through containers.
Sept. 22: We're renovating soon, which means my shoes are being banished to the basement.
Sept. 21: First you take off the flower's head and then you pull apart the petals and stick a jewel in the center.
Sept. 20: I can't clean all my clothes at once. (They don't fit in the drawers.)
Sept. 19: I get up earlier now that I'm unemployed than I did when I had to be at work by 6:30 in the morning.
Sept. 18: I'm having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad hair day... and my ear aches.
Sept. 17: I am great at organization, but lately I've been a little short on motivation.
Sept. 16: I keep pretending I'm still adjusting to you.
Sept. 15: My worst nightmares aren't crowded with ghosts or goblins or monsters. They're full of other people.
Sept. 14: Stop staring at me.
Sept 13: "I'm all legs," she said.
Sept. 12: Found a piece of porcelain in my mashed potatoes at a restaurant ("I thought it was a tooth at first.") 2 bites in and they still charged me for them.
Sept 11: I hate the kind of headaches that feel like your brain is trying to escape.
Sept 10: I've been reading too many comic books lately. Any minute now they'll show up and take away my English degree.
Sept. 9: I'm moving forward and going backwards.
Sept 8: We watched Flavor of Love recently and now my boyfriend wants a case full of walking sticks, a giant clock and a lot more hats.
Sept. 7: Ebay is very good at getting me in trouble. (500 plastic flower heads) (50 alligator clips) (1/2 oz tube of industrial glue)
Sept. 5: We went to the carnival last night and my boyfriend won me ("All the other girls are jealous.") this huge, stuffed monkey.
Sept. 4: This feeling of missing you keeps floating up, treading lazy laps around inside my head.
Sept. 3: I'm not afraid of the dark or the future, but I am afraid of the things that live there.
Sept 2: I buy two copies of lots of stuff ("2, please.") (books I love, dresses I look good in), so I can be less worried about losing them.
Sept. 1: You looked so peaceful sleeping, I couldn't wake you, even though you'd asked me to.
Aug. 31: Whenever I go to the farmer's market (Abe Lincoln, Mr. Stripey, Gold Medal, Persimmon, Beefsteak, Boxcar Willie, Purple Cherokee, Green Zebra) I love looking at all the different varieties of heirloom tomatoes.
Aug. 30: Opportunity arrives and I let it pass on by.
Aug. 29: "Make more of me! I'm lonely"
Aug. 28: I am prickly like a cactus, difficult as the diet of a Buddhist.
Aug. 27: Happy birthday, honey! Sorry about the cupcakes. I wanted to make you a huge cake, but this dumb gas oven bakes anything bigger than a muffin unevenly.
Aug. 26: When I wake up too early the world feels fuzzy.
Aug. 25: (The Great Bacon Debate) "I like my bacon crispy." "I prefer it less well done."
Aug. 24: I'll go tame a dinosaur if you do the cooking.
Aug. 23: Whenever we go to the movies you fall asleep in your seat and start to snore. (It's adorable.)
Aug. 22: Once a day is over it's gone forever.
Aug. 21: I meant to get more done.
Aug. 20: "It's just me and you, cat."
Aug. 19: Last night I dreamt about being chased and hiding on a train.
Aug. 17: I've got my favorite T-shirts, but they're night necessarily everyone else's.
Aug. 16: I've been thinking of you... all afternoon.
Aug. 15: I can't help it. I watch the special features on every DVD I rent (even if they're boring). If I didn't, I'd worry I missed something funny that never made it into the movie.
Aug. 14: The days slip away and before you know it it's next month.
Aug. 13: (Make a to do list.) (Find paper to make list.) (Get distracted.)
Aug. 12: Every time we go to the hardware store my boyfriend steers us towards the bathroom fixtures aisle to admire (flushes a bucket of golf balls) The Champion 4.
Aug. 11: Lima beans smothered in salt and butter are delicious.
Aug. 10: You've got both feet on dry land. I'm still lost at sea.
Aug. 9: The world is outside that door, but I'm not sure I'm ready yet to meet it.
Aug. 8: There is finally space to spread out. I probably should not fill it all the way up with stuff.
Aug. 7: (Welcome to Charm City) "Oh, by the way, you might not want to walk anywhere after dark."
Aug. 6: If I look in the right direction, (job job JOB job job job) I know I'll find one.
Aug. 5: It's your turn to fall asleep in front of the tv.
Aug. 4: Hometowns swallow you whole if you let them.
July 8: "Tag! You're it!"
July 6: Sometimes I feel like I've donw nothing with my day and then I check Facebook and realize were all up to some form of nothing.
July 4: After the candles have been blown out the smell of smoke still lingers.
July 3: People prowling around outside my house scare me more than lions, tigers or bears.
July 2: Crafting a puppet is a whole lot like (This one is fine with just one eye.) crafting a comic strip.
June 30: I didn't notice the wrinkles on my forehead because I was so used to looking in the mirror and finding what had always been there.
June 19: I'm not nervous about us, just excited.
June 12: It's past time I pulled up my roots and moved.
April 3: I try to be careful and hide my insides.
April 1: I like to give. You like getting.
March 9: ("It's a decorative statement.") I hang my bras on the bathroom door instead of putting them in a drawer.
March 3: I don't mean to let the words jump out of my mouth. (They just do.)
Feb 26: You just wanted me to feed the cats, but I couldn't help it, I took out the trash.
Feb. 24: I got so used to spending all my time with you. I didn't know what to do this afternoon.
Feb 22: You avoided the word "weirdo;" instead you called me "quirky."
Feb. 21: I've never felt dainty next to any of the boys I've dated. Then again, none of them have been over 5'10.
Feb. 19: You are my favoritest sister in the whole wide universe.
Feb. 17: "Your shirt would look fantastic with my shoes," he said. So I let him wear it for a while.
Feb. 14: If you make a big production out of holidays you no longer qualify for they're a little less depressing. (Cupcakes for everyone!!!)
Feb. 13: She wondered if the chase was more exciting ("I said TAG! You're it!") than actually catching anyone.
Feb. 11: I gave you the worst valentine in the package (and felt a little guilty about it), but you were happy just to get a valentine, so I gave up on feeling guilty.
Feb. 10: "It's ok." she said, "I'm used to it.
Feb. 9: The boys at work insist I'm taller than I admit.
Feb. 8: Sometimes I'm confused by specific members of your gender, but I have a pretty firm grasp of what motivates the mass.
Feb. 7: The weather is controlled by robots.
Feb. 6: "Darn! I was so close to getting to bed on time..." I almost made it.
Feb. 5: My momma says she found me in a cabbage patch.
Feb. 4: I am full of...
Feb. 2: I tried living less on the internet, but there are so many exciting, brain rotting opportunities online.
Jan. 30: (Drawing of a T-Rex sneaking up on a brontosaurus wearing a bow tie.)
Jan 29: My friends are mostly men. Stick them in a room together and they could play, "Who dated her longer?"
Jan 28: It's all going to collide.
Jan 24: I woke up this morning thinking about you.
Jan 15: In my family, when you turn 27, my mom calls to say she was pregnant with her first child at your age.
Dec. 31: Honest. My brain doesn't normally crawl out of my head like this.
Dec. 27: Whenever I think I'm making progress, the clutter shifts sides and finds a foot-hold in another part of the room.
Dec. 24: Oh! Christmas! You crept up on me.
Dec. 23: I was trying to tell you how much I love you. (But I don't think I did a very good job of it.)
Dec. 22: I haven't felt like myself lately.
Dec. 13: They say opposites attract, but we've got an awful lot in common.
Dec. 12: I got a second job. I'm an intern at a publishing company. It doesn't pay anything. But it's gotten me writing again.
Oct. 21: The hour I drive to see you is fifty miles further than I'd drive to see anyone else.
Oct. 20: I woke up this morning and found the note you left under my pillow.
Sept. 25: I took all the pictures off the walls, so we could start over.
Sept. 4: I could cuddle you to death and you'd never wake up.
Aug. 15: I do equations most nights in bed to see how many hours are left before I have to wake up.
Aug. 1: I know I'm not an adult yet because I can't afford gas and groceries in the same week.
July 10: I write myself post it notes so I can ignore them. ("What was I going to do today?") (That's what they're there for.)
June 30: Apparently I'll say yes to anything you ask. So maybe we'd both be better off if you didn't ask me anything.
June 29: I fall somewhere between pretty and ugly.
June 24: When someone notices me I never think wow, I must look good. I think, how'd I get food on my forehead?
June 20: My fortune cookie said I'd have a romantice evening. I went home and went to bed instead.
June 17: I know I could be a whole lot nicer. I could also be an astronaut or a doctor; I could even be president!
June 3: I say too many stupid things in a row and start to suspect my brain left this conversation twenty minutes ago.
May 19: I'm not sure she said. But he'd stopped listening.
May 12: I keep my potential safely boxed away.
April 29: Does it freak you out when I say I love you?" he asked.
April 28: "I love your arm fat," he said. And asked if I wanted another gummi bear.
April 27: Republicans make the best boyfriends.
April 22: I dreamt you dies six years ago and woke up worried.
April 16: I don't mean to be mean.
April 14: I always say I'm going to start exercising regularly, but it's a little like redecorating the living room. It's never actually going to happen.
April 9: I'm getting old, boring or both. (I've started telling the same stories over and over.)
April 8: Some days I wake up and just feel like being difficult.
April 7: I'm way less fragile than I look.
April 6: "How do you keep it all in your head?" she said. "I don't," I told her. "Some of it dribbles out."
April 2: Everything's louder underwater.
April 1: Feels like I went to sleep in high school and woke up nine years later.
March 31: An apple a day keeps the hippopotamus away.
March 28: Gosh, I have a headache.
March 27: The same weight gets distributed differently.
March 26: We're all just gobs of atoms colliding with each other at random.
March 25: On days I wake up and it's still dark out, I can't seem to stop yawning.
March 21: I've always liked the potential of men better than the reality of them.
March 20: My favorite form of cardio is getting to the bottom of the stairs and remembering what I left at the top.
March 19: I know I'm getting old because it's getting harder and harder to see the dips in the road ahead of me when I'm driving after dark.
March 18: Lately when we're out together and tell people we're sisters they look at her and look at me and ask, "Sorority sisters?"
March 17: If I take a break, procrastinate from drawing comics I know I might never start again. So I try to draw them even on days I'm not feeling particularly inspired. (This is a doodle I did. It's a robot or a monster or maybe a dinosaur.)
March 15: Maybe I'm meant to be alone.
March 14: The perfect t-shirt's tight enough to accentuate your curves without cutting off your circulation.
March 13: Robots can't stand reality television. (Everyone on it shows too much emotion.)
March 11: "I live in my head," she said.
March 10: I spend so much time with my computer, if it were a person we'd be dating.
March 7: I'm treading above water not sinking like a bottle.
March 6: Network television's going digital next year, so I'll have to give up my favorite pair of rabbit ears.
March 5: I just went into the bank; that wasn't an invitation for you to break down.
March 1: My brain has turned to mush and fallen apart. It must be the weekend.
Feb. 29: If I cover the ocean in ink, no one will see me swimming.
Feb 27: Dinosaurs I bet make the best boyfriends. ("My brain may be the size of a peanut, but my heart is huger than your head!")
Feb 26: I feel like I'm stuck under a snow drift waiting for you to come dig me out.
Feb. 25: "You know what I've noticed about you?" he said, "You never smile with your teeth."
Feb. 24: I'm scared of lots of things, but if I pretend to have a tough skin no one notices.
Feb. 23: In the middle of the night I wake up and am just as alone as I've ever been.
Feb. 22: I had a dream last night half my tooth broke off.
Feb. 21: There are pieces of me that don't mind being different, but the rest of me just wants to be as normal as possible.
Feb. 20: The memories tunnel in and I realize, yours aren't the same as mine.
Feb. 19: You carried my heart away over the sea... And called me up to tell me when it was half gone. (I've eaten most of it, but was wondering if you had another?)
Feb 18: Everyone's guilty of causing a rainstorm once in a while. (BLACK THOUGHTS)
Feb. 17: I dance like a doofus and hope I'm in time with the rhythm.
Feb. 15: For my birthday I got a book from a boy who wasn't trying to sleep with me about a bunch of people trying to sleep with each other.
Feb. 14: I run on tea and tiny drawings.
Feb. 12: Colds have a way of taking their time before they'll leave you alone.
Feb. 11: Entertaining stories rarely have happy endings.
Nov. 12: Dreams, sometimes, seep through the walls.
Oct. 30: It's almost November and I haven't started shopping for Christmas presents yet. I'm really far behind. Usually I have half of them by July.
Oct. 29: None of you are the right fit.
Oct. 25: Sisters are good to have around if you're hungry (Sometimes my sister feeds me cookies.) or need to know what to wear to a party. (Sometimes my sister gives me furniture.)
Oct. 24: Whiskey and boardgames, what a great idea (if only we could stop drinking long enough to remember whose turn it was).
Oct. 23: I've tried total honesty (left nothing to the imagination), but I don't think anyone ever actually wants that.
Oct. 21: I know for a fact you'll only get interested if I act like I'm not.
Oct. 20: I get halfway done cleaning something properly and by the time I get back to it, the first part's gotten messy again.
Oct. 19: I started drawing this months ago, but kept putting off finding an old-fashioned mouse to finish it.
Aug. 20: Sometimes when I watch too much tv stupid stuff makes me cry.
Aug. 15: At a certain point after moving there are boxes that you just don't have the strength to go through and open. Maybe years from now you might and they'll turn out to be papers from the second grade you could have thrown out.
Aug. 14: I was holding my breath waiting for the part where we became you and me, but it hasn't come yet (so I guess I should stop holding my breath).
Aug. 9: The heat is making my brain float away.
Aug. 8: My brother got in his car to go get some lunch and just kept driving.
Aug. 7: If you broke open my leg bones the tiredness would seep out and leave a puddle behind.
Aug. 4: Too much change makes me anxious.
Aug. 3: My car battery died, so I guess I have to stay inside.
Aug. 1: I got a new mouse. (I'm not used to it yet.) I'd taken the old one apart to clean it and afterwards it just never worked the same again.
July 10: A smile goes a lot farther than a pout.
July 9: I'd like to make plans and have them stick.
July 6: I have a wall full of phone numbers I'll never call, but keep collecting a pinning on top of each other just in case I ever need one.
July 5: When my boyfriend said he needed something to sit on in his new apartment my mother was so ready to get rid of her old couch she borrowed a truck and delivered it to his doorstep.
July 3: I can tell I'm doing too much worrying if my teeth hurt in the morning from gritting them while I'm sleeping.
July 2: I'm sorry I'm always apologizing.
June 4: They told me at the monster agency I'm supposed to reassure you you'll never amount to anything.
May 28: People who speak in cliches have nothing original to say.
May 27: After someone's gone you think about all the times you refused to hug them.
May 26: I made a mix cd last night and thought about how memory is tied strongest to smell, but it's tied to music as well.
May 18: Whenever I start crying I just tell myself (rather firmly) to stop it.
May 16: It all ends the same.
May 15: Soon I'll find a job and this lethargy will feel like a bad dream.
May 14: I'm rarely any good at listening to my own advice.
May 13: We were made for each other.
May 10: I told him, "I'm trying to crawl out of my shell." You can help.
May 9: Being related makes it easier to argue and still love each other.
May 8: I was sure the world was upside down until I realized I was the only one who thought so.
May 7: Dates don't have to be expensive. It's okay to stay in every once in a while.
May 5: "I'm a whale," said the whale, but all that came out was, "eee ooo... eeeee."
May 4: If I were about to bite the bullet and had to choose the method I'd really rather sleep through it.
May 3: It's raining outside! It sounds like someone tapping on a tin can.
..Still Working on all the ones in between....
Sept. 1: Z is for... Zebra ("Psst... pass this note to the hippo in the fourth row.") who's always stuck in the back of the class.
Aug. 30: Y is for... Yakkity-yak ("AND DON'T COME BACK!")
Aug. 29: S is for... Xiphias who is a dangerous fish.
Aug. 28: W is for... Walrus whose smile is an orthodontist's worst nightmare.
Aug. 27: V is for... Vulture ("I think this rabbit's turned. Will you taste it for me?") who eats very dead meat.
Aug. 26: U is for... Ungulates which are hoofed mammals.
Aug. 25: T is for... Tick whose head is the important bit.
Aug. 24: S is for... Snake who ate an apple and realized, without legs, he was naked.
Aug. 23: R is for... Rabbit ("Say, What's for dinner tonight?" "Welsh Rabbit.") who ran away.
Aug. 22: Q is for... Quail who was sad for the duck when it died.
Aug. 21: P is for... Platypus whose ankles are poisonous.
Aug. 20: O is for... Octopus who would be a sextapus with two legs less.
Aug. 19: N is for... Newt which is a lizard, not a Gingrich.
Aug. 17: Mouse who got lost in a cheese factory and died of happiness.
Aug. 16: L is for... Lightning Bug who gets embarassed by electrical sockets.
Aug. 15: K is for... Kangaroo who has a pouch for babies and paws for boxing.
Aug. 14: J is for... Jellyfish who float like brains and sting like bees.
Aug. 13: I is for... Iguana who grew too big for the bath tub and packed hi bags for Tokyo. (At least that's what mom said.)
Aug. 12: H is for... Hippopotamus who someone told me is as genetically similar to a whale as chimpanzees are to humans... But I don't know if I believe him.
Aug. 11: G is for... Giraffe who lost his spots in the wash.
Aug 10: F is for... Frog who sat on a spotted log and croaked.
Aug. 9: E is for... Eels who grew gigantic and almost ate a princess.
Aug. 8: D is for... Duck who never drowns.
Aug. 7: C is for... Chimaera who doesn't exist.
Aug. 6: B is for... Bee who is very scary.
Aug. 5: A is for... Alligator who crawled up from the sewer.
Aug. 3: I still think about you... This afternoon I was tearing wallpaper down and suddenly it felt like you tearing me in two.
Aug. 2: Whenever I watch Trading Spaces or Changing Rooms I get the urge to paint something. I just don't act on it.
Aug. 1: The birds on my wallpaper are mean... not the sparrows though just the cardinals. I only know this because my sister told me so. They fooled me.
July 30: While researching words that begin with an "x" I found out... xenodocheionology is a love of hotels. Xerotripsis is dry friction. A xylogarp is a hard and woody fruit. A xystarch was an ancient Greek officer in charge of gymnastics exercises. Xenophobia is a fear of foreigners, but xenophilia is a love of foreigners. (Today's comic was brought to you by the letter "X.")
July 27: I went to an eighties dance party. It reminded me of every middle school dance I'd ever gone to... even though there were more people and the music was better and there was alcohol being served ...but other than that it was exactly the same.
July 26: Other people know my face better than I do.
July 16: Gluing googley eyes to something makes it an instant piece of art.
July 15: Eliza and her sister never liked sharing their clothing.
July 14: I don't answer the phone because it's never for me. I mean... it's almost hardly ever for me.
July 13: My sister babysits for a kid who throws his gorilla in the toilet and then cries about it until someone fishes it out for him.
July 10: I say, "Hello, may I please speak to..." And then they'll say, "Yes. One moment please." And then I'll wait and say, "Hey this is..." Hello. May I please speak to... I'm sorry. He's not home. Oh... Thank you.
July 9: 9 out of 10 pretty princesses prefer castles.
July 8: If the blinds are open it's been a good day. If they're closed...
July 7: The more you eat the bigger you become.
July 5: The sky is always more beautiful late at night through a backseat window.
July 3: Slut is a word used too much to mean a girl who just won't pay attention to you.
July 2: I'm too bus pretending not to care that he hasn't called to remember I'm not supposed to care that he hasn't called.
June 30: If it looks like pee and smells like pee unfortunately it's probably pee.
June 28: You shouldn't open your eyes when you kiss because up close everyone looks like a fish.
June 23: The moon is not made of cheese.
June 20: I don't understand people who buy bottled water and then continue to eat an ice cream cone they've just let their dog lick.
June 18: I was sitting at a bar talking to a boy about books when he started yelling about how much Vonnegut sucks. It made me so sad I had to leave.
June 17: I had a dream last night that cats were hiding in my room. But they all came out once I offered them a bowl of fried chicken.
June 13: It's embaressing to be twenty-one and not have wheels or a license.
June 9: Once upon a time there was a young actress named Calista who wanted to be famous...
June 7: When I'm alone with someone I can be pleasant even intelligent, but when I get in a large group I become sort of spastic. If I were a dog I'd be peeing on the carpet.
June 1: Boys with girlfriends are always more attractive. Of course maybe it's just that I'm drunk and sweater than usual.
May 24: Large crowds make me nervous. I'm afraid they'll swallow me whole And no one will ever know.
May 22: If you swallow all the things you'd like to say eventually they'll choke you.
May 20: Some people seem more attractive until they open their mouths.
May 19: I can't draw cartons of milk Or anything but old-fashioned cameras. I like simplicity and phrases like... If frogs has wings they wouldn't bump their butts when they hopped.
May 17: When I go to the movies with my parents and my brother the sex scenes always make me uncomfortable.
May 16: How to make a cinnamon roll Draw a black circle. Add a white circle. Draw a black circle. Add a white circle. Draw a black circle. Add icing. Draw a small black circle. Add a smaller white circle. Yum!
May 15: It gets confusing after about two whether it's late at night or early in the morning.
May 12: Dear mom, Happy Mother's Day. You made me the person I am today. Love, your daughter.
May 11: Don't arGUE. It makes you smell bad. Love me instead.
May 5: Lately when I think of you it makes me want to puke.
April 29: My dad bought my mom a used motorcucle. She keeps riding it up and down the driveway.
April 28: College has made me clever conservative independent insane
April 25: Some mothers call it a... flower chacha cooster nana tata Ms. Jane? Mine called it a tutu. So when my older sister took ballet I couldn't help giggling every time she did a Plie.
April 24: My friend and I can't stop talking about how icky the boys are here. Now that we're in college we act like we're seven.
April 19: Television made me the woman I am today.
April 18: You touch me and my insides sting.
April 17: My friend always asks me to cut his hair. He says he wants it the same length only shorter.
April 16: My mother called tonight. I wasn't around. I wish I could have talked to her. It's lonely here.
March 21: I went to the circus today. I wanted to see the elephants. Maybe even a clown or two. But... it was closed.