I wrote a poem that includes a camel that bites people.

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Things middle aged and old men say to me while I'm running:

"hurry up" and all it's variations ("go faster," "speed up," etc)
"are we there yet?" (no, we are not)
"can't make up your mind, can you" (when I zig to avoid someone who does not correspondingly zag but also ziggs. Or the opposite of that. The person who makes this comment is usually not involved in the zig or the zag, but is instead a third party)

All of these things aggrivate me, and they are never said by other runners. Usually

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I want a pair of suede, round-toe, slingback platforms in nude beige. Not white. Not beige. Not tan or brown.

Also, I'd like to be the captain of a mail boat.

And I'd like to know why it is so difficult to get reasonable passage on cargo ships these days.

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Today's ailments include excessive sleepiness itchy eyes due to careless application of green eyeliner.

Today's enjoyments include eating lunch outside with Mark, splitting my creative writing class into groups to work on storyboards, and eating breakfast with Lester (quinoa with blueberries, yogurt, a few slivered almonds and a little candied ginger. Lester is still wary of the blueberries)