grumpy, took my flowered blanket, made a bed on the floor. crawled into my bed halfway through the night, sorry ( Read more... )

i am no longer crying all the motherfucking time.

i'm quite happy.

yay for new york. yay for andrew gruen. i want a cigarette, but haven't smoked one in. three. days.

oh my god. i better post this right now.

happy. yay. more information. soon.

i'm crying all the (motherfucking) time.

like. what the fuck. what could possibly be the issue? what's my deal?

rhetorical, of course. no real answer in sight. either that or it's sitting right in front of me and i refuse to acknowledge it.

fuckin'. this is dumb. city of berkeley, you're stupid.

that modest mouse song is funny because he's like, "dude. yeah. that's true. oh yeah, that's true too. well, yeah. i mean. that's true ( Read more... )

three blocks away from central park. there was this moment of instability, when oma said, "hey remy, maybe you should just go to montreal; hey remy, why not get a job at home; hey remy, i don't know if this is going to work out," but it did, as it always does, because it should ( Read more... )

i'm out of berkeley.

we're coming back eventually. at some point. when we feel like it.

i want to track down these boys. i think there might be swimming. and lots of loudly staged fights.

and, without a doubt, pictures.

goodbyes are sad ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

i'm in this awesome play.

you should all come see it.

i smoke cigarettes in a pink nightgown. it's hot.

friday at seven, saturday at seven or sunday at two.

let me know if you want more information. i'm supremely happy to give it.

( to lessen my embarassment for putting up a stupid survey, even though i'm actually kind of excited about this stupid survey. )