i must be fine because my heart's still beating
right now, it's very bitterly funny to me that today, as i was driving around baltimore, i was planning out a long journal entry about how much i love my car, and all the things it symbolizes for me.

right now, i have no idea where my car is, because it was stolen. it was stolen 20 feet away from my apartment building by two guys with a knife.

i came home. it was 10:30 pm. i parked my car. i locked my car. i was walking from my car to my front door when two guys came up to me. one of them said, "hey, can i talk to you for a second?" i looked at him, but kept walking. he reached for the keys in my hand and said, "give me your keys." in his other hand, i saw the dull metal glimmer of a switchblade. "give me your keys," he said again, and pulled lightly on the keychain. i let go. "give me your bag, too," he said. i reached into my bag and pulled out my wallet. "i'll give you all the money i have, just don't take my bag," i said. i gave him the cash in my wallet. they had already started backing away, towards the car. the guy said, "you got a phone? give me your phone." i handed him my cellphone. "go home. don't call anyone. go home." and i watched them get into my car and drive away.

yesterday, i got my car tuned up and the oil changed. then i washed, cleaned and vacuumed it. i even got a new air freshener; it smells like peaches. today, i bought a new cd, which was in the stereo when this all happened. and as i watched my car disappear down the street, all i could think about was those two assholes listening to the wussy britpop of suede.

fortunately, lorien was home to let me in, and brooke made me tea, and they helped me deal with the cops and the insurance people, and distracted me for a bit. and i think the cop learned that it's important to carry extra paper when you're taking witness statements from a journalist.

i don't feel angry right now. i just feel like the ground's been pulled out from under me. i am sitting in silence, listening for noises outside. i am trying to not think about clean, shiny Sebastian the Intrepid Civic wrapped around a tree somewhere. i am trying to understand how shitty a person's life has to be for them to be able to do this sort of thing. but i can't understand, and i just feel afraid and alone and unsafe.