Wednesday, Dec. 10, 2003 | 10:58 AM

I waited for the bus for an hour today before the damn thing finally showed up. Actually, four buses showed up at once at that point. Fun stuff.

However, it wasn�t as bad as it could have been because I was listening to Shut Up You Fucking Baby, the David Cross standup album and laughing my tits off. I�m thinking good comedy albums (of which there are so few) may be the way to go as far as early morning commute listening is concerned, just as getting dressed/brushing my hair, etc. whilst watching an episode of The Office, Upright Citizens Brigade, or Mr. Show turns a cranky workday loathing me into the jolly good time Gal Friday everyone knows and loves.

I also got hit on today on the bus by a smarmy middle aged black businessman type, and it�s most definitely because of my hipster outfit�a short a-line black skirt, tan lamb�s wool sweater, black tights, and black doc martens. (It�s nice to be thin enough to pull that shit off now) It�s all about what outfit you wear, I swear to God. 90% of the time some guy puts the moves on me, I am wearing this skirt.

You know, when I met Matt on the Greyhound to Rochester, I was quite possibly the ugliest looking I have been in years. I hadn�t washed my hair in two days and it was oily and limp and frizzy at the ends. I had huge dark circles under my eyes and I was sporting the schlubbiest fashion mis-statement�shapeless black pans that were too big for me and a stained orange t shirt and remarkably unhip sneakers. �Cause after all I certainly didn�t expect to meet anyone interesting. I�m sort of floored and really impressed that he saw past that�not that I�m any great shakes when I am all dolled up, but it�s definitely a sizeable improvement.

I�m really randy right now. Suddenly it�s come over me like a fucking wave of lava. Jesus, it�s always at the most inopportune times. I want to participate in some incredibly un-romantic, rough and tumble, no frills sex right now. Just a nice straight hip thrusting quickie. I really need to think about purchasing a personal slave for this purpose. I would name him Allen and feed him grapes while he bench pressed copies of Remembrance of Things Past. And every morning he would give me a good hott roll in the hay (we keep hay in the kitchen. You know�for charity.)

That would be an even better way to start the morning than listening to David Cross.