So next time I find myself thinking, "Wow, I'm sick of sleeping alone," perhaps I should be more specific about my wishes. Otherwise, I will forever have drunken, gay men barging into my room at 4am, screaming about the evils of communism, and passing out in my bed.
The weather decided to make up for all the winter we missed in January. I'm snowed in at Shervin's apartment, watching movies, eating two-bite cupcakes, smoking cigarettes out the window, and watching the snow fill in footprints 7 stories below.
I'm enjoying shallow pleasures today, like Anna Sui Ooh La Love, the beaded handbag I haven't used in a year, and the pink necklace that my mom gave me before I moved out of the house
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I now live in the same century as everyone else in the world. Our house is now full of modern conveniences, such as cable, internet, and a microwave. Incredible
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Escondida by Jolie Holland = an excellent record that, for whatever reason, you're not listening to. IM me and I will send it to you, because, trust me, you need it.