~Dancing with Myself by kj~

See, this is why I hate bringing cameras into the club. Because it's not about how you look, ok--yes, thanks, my butt looks gigundous here, like nobody ever points that out when they see the picture--but it is about what you *do*.

Fuck you and your little high-school glittery stuff around your face, ok? And those shiny four-inch heels you can't dance in? Because while you're over there leaning against the wall and posing like a spoiled diva and pretending like you don't care whether or not That Guy Is Looking At You, *I'm* out dancing, ok, and feeling the sound get under my skin and ignite, and while *you* end up pouty and drunk and out $30 from your stupid trendy cranberry-and-vodka-and-Red Bulls, *I* end up dancing like the wind, and having a glorious time.

Even if you think my butt looks big.

~Liftoff by kj~

"Momma! Look! Look at our spaceship!"

She turned a page of her magazine, and did not look up. "It's lovely," she said.

"Mom!" cried Javier, as the spaceship lifted off, and the roof folded aside to let it pass. "You're not even looking!"

~Pretzels by kj~

"Kelly!" her mother cried.

"What are you doing!?"

Kelly looked up. "Pretzels, mommy," she said, as if the answer were obvious.

"I'm doing pretzels."