I called the bank this morning to check my account after recent copious spending. I don't understand how my balance could have gone up after spending money. Something is fucked up.

I like to buy expensive things and return them. And I like meeting boys at Gregg's Greenlake Cycle who I went to highschool with.

Jean cut offs and t-shirts feel right at the end of summer; I don't think about washing my hair or wearing any make-up ( Read more... )

Vogue announces the end of summer with its 832 page edition; Fall Fashion Spectacular!. I don't remember why I thought a subscription to Vogue would be a good idea, probably something about collaging.

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The mornings are always the hardest; I bite my nails and hang my hands out the window. I was not scared last night, I was disillusioned. An exhibitionist.

Los Angeles seems thousands of miles away, across ocean and desert and storm. I am not a virgin anymore.

In french movies the main characters always kill eachother or commit suicide in the end. Also, in french movies, the kisses are more face-smashings than tongue excercizes. I learned this from watching 'The Woman Next Door' over the past two days ( Read more... )

When you wake up next to a boy. His name is Sam ( Read more... )

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness, concerning all acts of initiative (and creation). There is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one ( Read more... )

My sister says I've "got potential".
Everything is going to be alright.

I am having an identity crisis. At seventeen.

( Wostrel )

Any advice for starting college?