It's beautiful out and I should be happy but I'm just not. I had a good weekend. I'm working on bunny suits for the BF and me for Guerilla Fur Bar (and just for fun). I lost 14 pounds and had to get smaller pants. (The smaller pants make my ass look great, too.) I'm helping plan a birthday shindig for a good friend which is going to be a great party. There are gorgeous daffodils in my kitchen that smell just like chocolate, and I woke up in my loving partner's arms this morning.

But I'm still just down.

Spaulding Gray is dead. I already knew that, but somehow the news has got me down.

And I have a difficult talk ahead of me. It could be worse but it's still depressing.

Also I was invited to be part of a really cool camp with people who I'd love to work with, and *I can't go to Burning Man.*

Bleah.

I need a gloomier picture for times like this.

OK no more complaining, back to the fur mines.

I'm feeling: Bleah