i don't know anyone here.

(mouth sounding)

and did i miss scott's birthday? my mail is forever cranky...but he is special. if i did, i'm sorry. please have some cake. pearlwhite cake with slender pink frosting is best.

i miss every birthday. birthdays make me cry on porchsteps. argh.

as dyskodyke once said very elegantly, right now i'm a bad person--i am bad at being a person.

and i'm wondering what, if anything, will happen to this. regarding cruelty...

loving winter. hating yourself. ah.

...and i have to install windows. i fucking hate windows.

(not the kind that are pretty and dangerous when they break, i meant)

(i'm bad at being a person, i told you)

pj harvey's celebratory yowl and liz phair's how does she KNOW, with you...oh yeah, she's been stepped on, she's played those roles too, she sat there with cocky boys too and it was her there she was a college girl silently biting her lipskin and getting ANTSY too...her drawings in the park didn't sell too...she wore winter coats and felt stupid for feeling alone, too... qualities are all that are keeping me awake now.

funny that aside from rebecca gates, my two favorite indie queens are also that sort of person</i>. i almost tried to understand.

and hey, rebecca gates is in a similar veinvent too...it makes such perfect clean sense that harper likes the spinanes. such perfect sense.

i long at times to be one of the intelligent women with their starched white button down shirts and smart mouths and secret weapons. (grinning) i also miss gentleness; they've those aspects, too.

enough babbling for now. time to go on.