Wings

For the last few days, I've had dreams of jumping very high.
Jumping is not one of my fortes, it NEVER has been, so I don't understand where this desire is stemming from. It's driving me crazy, because I'm fucking awesome in my dreams... and in real life, I'm too scared to jump because of a basketball injury from... ten years ago (JESUS CHIRST! TEN YEARS AGO!)... that, and the fact that jumping when you have relatively large ta-tas kind of fucking hurts.
Anyway, expect a "Why am I such a retard?! I just injured myself jumping!" post in the near future.

Speaking of the near future, Chicago time is almost here.
I wasn't feelin' it last week, or the week before, because MGH made a thought resurface:
I'm going to Chicago pretty much to serve as a wing-girl to my sister... who is going to be dating the dude I found cute out there.
MGH: WHY would you want to do that?!
Me: Because I'm a good sister?
MGH: WOWWWWW
Awkward? Maybe just a bit.
I don't have feelings for the guy, it's just what he "stands" for... As in... the constant reminder that any dude will choose my sister over me.
I'll be there, walking around, killing time--ALONE-- as I know my sister might be getting serious with a dude.
Spinster alert? DUH!

Sometimes I think about it for a couple of minutes... then I let it go.
Eh. Whatever. As long as no one asks me about my future plans or digs into my non-existent love life, it's all good.


Oh, Chicago, will the day ever come when we'll be cool with each other? You're a lovely city... far as hell, but lovely.