Outside the days are getting warmer and longer. Snow melts, freezes, unfreezes somewhat, breaks beneath my shoe filling it with water. I can no longer run to the bus stop for fear of slipping, and walking there is a game of hopscotch over puddles.

You can feel the tip of summer in the air. People don't wear coats when they line up in front of nightclubs. This makes a lot of sense for the women especially, because most of them have fake boobs to keep them warm.

It's disgusting.

When I dance I wear a t-shirt and jeans, or a tank top and jeans. This, of course, makes me the sexiest lady on the dance floor. And of course, I become irrisistable when I do my redneck impression - legs apart, pretend to adjust nonexistant package, a little scratch under the armpit, sligh nod of the head, and finally, to top it all off, a George Bush "Gawd Bless America!" in my most wonderfully Texan accent.

"It's scary how good at that you are," J tells me. She's texting while her ugly, fat boyfriend drinks a pitcher of beer. He really doesn't need it. His voice is slurred enough when he's sober.

I'm in a country bar for the very first time, and it is oh so very redneck Albertan! How can I not poke fun of it a little?

But I did have fun dancing with G. She - a girl I work with - is wonderfully cute, funny, original. And tiny. I feel like a giant next to her. I don't particularly like feeling like a giant.

Anyways, the morning after dancing, highballs, rednecks, and country music, I wake up at 11:45 and realize I am still terribly heartbroken.

There have got to be about a million ways to deal with heartbreak, only because having simply one is not nearly enough. The gals at the old country club were pretty in a generic, cosmopolitan magazine type of way. It made me realize how uniquely sexy Z is, and this of course made me miss her.

I jumped into a relationship all innocent, naive, and wide-eyed with wonder. Then I fell. It hurts. I want a band-aid, but they don't come in heartbreak size. Fuckerooni.

She made me feel big, big, big. With her, I was myself in a way I had never been myself before. I could do anything.

Now I cry...and cry...and cry. My eyes get puffy, and I can't even find my blue eyeliner. I eat. I watch tv. I don't do my homework. I go on the computer. I sleep. Then I wake up. And I cry some more. It really is amazing how many tears the body is capable of producing. I was planning on having hot lesbian sex right about now. Funny how things turn out, isn't it?