I have a fail on my English but a pass on my dictation. I have blue sweatpants. And sparkly hair barettes. I have evenings in the hutongs writing the same character again, and again, and again. I have an ipod with Jimi Hendrix ( Read more... )

CHILDREN ( Read more... )

THE SOMBRERO HAS BEEN BURNT.
SUMMERTIME
IS HEREBY
ENDED.

and goodbye.

So for the next nine months I expect (EXPECT, dammit) to recieve mail at ( Read more... )

I'm packed.
I'm listening to David Bowie.
I'm going to San Francisco. And I'll wear a flower in my hair. And blah blah blah. And I just want to be on the fucking plane already.

So let me say now that it's almost all over that I'm going to miss you kids, all of you. You tee-shirt kids and you tennis shoe kids, not quite classy enough to leave the Village Inn: you walkin' down eleventh street kinds of childrens and uncombed hair, library fines, paying for gas in pennies and dimes: crazy carseat dance parties. And also let ( Read more... )

So if I was a man
(and I mean a very muscle-bound, football-playing, Stillwater kind of man),
Rufus Wainwright would have turned me
very,
very
gay.
Also I WAS ON THE FRONT ROW THROUGH BEN FOLDS!!!! and I'm really immensely proud of that.

It is raining ( Read more... )

WHO IS GOING TO THE BEN AND RUFUS CONCERT?
WHO WANTS TO GO SEE THE KILLERS IN OKC?

WHY AM I POSTING WITH ABSOLUTELY NOTHING POIGNANT TO SAY?? THIS IS CERTAINLY A FIRST.

I got my suitcases and then
I ran around
all
most
naked.
And my fingertips smell like smoke and peaches.

Word.