A prom king is a person who can expertly navigate and/or manipulate his environment. Not necessarily a jock--at a high school full of nerds, the prom king will be a nerd. Alex was runner-up for prom king. Joe my ex-boyfriend was a prom king. Robin is a prom king. They're all so different, I thought, what IS it that defines this role?

High school is an environment in which people make friends and bring them together in groups. It is the arena in which we learn and exercise our social habits. So, the prom king is a person who is expert at making friends, and bringing them together in groups around him. In fact, all groups tend to attract to this person because pretty much everyone thinks he is a dandy great guy. Therefore, the prom king is a person who can basically unite the disparate cliques of a high school into one group--the high school--which unites, reflexively, around him. It's not as though he tries--well, maybe he tries a little--but this is an innate power of his personality; it is part of who he is.

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Robin and I are really attracted to each other. Like magnets. Which is great, I like him. And aside from liking and being liked, I am way complimented--because if anybody is our 'prom king', it's Robin. Greg is the senior class president. Alex is editor-in-chief of the newspaper, and still prom king runner-up. I am the captain of every women's sports team. This is our high school, whose main function is not class, but Saturday night poker.

Robin is handsome. Probably the best poker player. He has an innate sense of delicate humor and decency. Out of all the adults there (we range from 21 (me) to 30ish), he is not the oldest but he has the best steady-paying job that is actually in his field.

---It's a different feeling. It augments it, if you will. I mean, one is attracted to any number of very different people. But it is a different and interesting feeling when one knows that one is attracted to... the best?

But aw, don't get your hopes up too high for me. To my knowledge, he has always had and still has a girlfriend, Bonnie. She is like, 'the smartest girl' of our high school, meaning she is the best female poker player to pass through these halls. I can say that I'm acquainted with her, but I can't say that I know her. I can tell that Robin is attracted to me because there are certain ways in which I am like Bonnie, but there are ways in which I am not. (Duh, I know, but still.) I am a respectable poker player; I am not as fearsome as Bonnie, but I can still take your money. Bonnie and I are approximately the same build, complexion, and hair color, with almost similar features. But I exist with the guys in ways that Bonnie doesn't. I laugh, smile and joke a lot more, and Robin is habitually impressed that I am good at, and conversant in, any number of interesting and fun things that aren't poker. Robin is the smartest guy and Bonnie is the smartest girl, But Robin is prom king and I am captain of all the women's sports teams.

I'm not so much competing for him, though it may be in my blood. I think they've been together for like, ever. I think they were sweethearts when they came to this high school. It's just natural for me to compare myself, a girl in whom Robin is interested, to Bonnie, his girlfriend. I'm not gonna worry about it.

Last night was prime time for our attraction. I caught myself tilting my chair forward towards Robin who sat across the table. We touched each other's hands every time we passed each other cards, which was often; I've played plenty of poker, and let me tell you that that is neither usual nor necessary. I think the first time it happened was an electrifying accident, but every time after we just did it for the pleasure :). So magnetic it's funny.

So I fell asleep last night thinking ever of this awesome Robin who turneth me on. I dreamed weirdly and rich. I dreamed that Cris, my erstwhile crush from the Art Store, and I fell in love, and cuddled in my parents' bedroom. He then wrote me a little list of some of the things he loved about me; the only one I could remember reading clearly was "I love the way you say vegetable." Cris left the room, and my friend Kyle came in and started making out with me. Cris then walked in on it--Kyle quickly left the room--and Cris was so shocked he was weak-kneed and shaking. I went over to him and held him and took care of him in a way that said firmly, "I don't know or care what you saw, but I love you and you're a fool if you doubt that." [I once had to nurse my drunk friend, and I suddenly possessed this firm and unshakeable sense of control, care and consideration that caused her to instantly trust me and that made her lucid in no time. I surprised even me. It was this same sense I possessed when I went and held Cris in my dream.] And he did relax, and it was just us again.

At another completely unrelated point in my dreams, I was backpacking; my backpack was incredibly heavy and I was going up this interminable flight of stairs in the jungle. I was on my hands and knees, and it was so heavy, and I was so tired that I was about to collapse. This older woman came by and showed me that when my load is heavy and I am tired but I have to keep going, reaching the goal is easy and sure if I walk like a turtle. I turned my hands inward, the way a turtle does, and she was right, I did have more strength in me. When I got to the top of the steps, she was waiting there. She walked me over to a tree and showed me a red sap covering a place where a branch had been cut off. She said that this is a good cure for when I am ailing or weak, but I should only take a tiny, tiny bit of it. She scraped it all off but for a teensy speck, which I ate. She told me she once knew this amazing guy who ate the whole thing and was still okay. We moved on.

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So, lately it's been impossible to get acid (or so I've heard), and I recently learned why. Unlike many other drugs, such as meth, which is made in many small labs, or mushrooms, which any college kid can grow, LSD is very difficult to make. It requires some serious lab equipment. Basically, all the LSD in the US is made by 2 labs. Just two. And just this year, the government cracked down on one of them, effectively destroying an entire year's supply of the nation's LSD. So, there's a bit of a shortage.

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So I have been crafting like crazy recently. Just crankin out all kinds of cool stuff. I finally made the lightswitch plates for my study. Then I made my first stuffed plush out of red felt; it was an experiment really, and it's not too impressive, but I'm very proud of it. It's a little red blood cell with a vampire face. I've named him 'Prick'.

And I made this cool scarf/boa out of stacked felt squares; I colored it to look like my snake Valentine, and it turned out really well. I'm going to make a few more, with different shapes and styles; if they turn out really well and I get compliments, I'll try selling them.

AND I finally wrote the dumb little foreword for my booklet of poems, and they are ready for distribution. I'll try selling them to some zine stores, and I'll disseminate them among those I know. What do you think, is $1 fair for a small but attractively-designed booklet of 11 (very)short poems? Actually, considering my effort, I feel like $2 is fair, but will people, or stores, buy it for that much? Keep in mind, I'm not yet famous. If you email me, I will send you one (for free!) and you can give me your opinion on that. Paul, one is headed your way already.

I am so cool.

2:22 p.m. 2004-07-25�