December 5, 2002
Disarm
I don't feel much like Ophelia, but here she is anyway. I am John William Waterhouse's bitch, quite obviously.
I think I have I.O.U'd Kelsi about her sixth batch of cookies for helping me with my layouts. But, it's Christmas time. She might even get them this time.
If I had money I would buy myself Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. But I don't. I wish I did.
All alone in my room tonight. I can hear people playing out in the snow and wish I had the nerve to join them. I can only be young in close company, however. The rest of the time I have to keep up the bitter old woman facade. It works in my favor, you know. It's like a bitch tatoo. People sort of leave you alone.
Problem is, they leave you alone when you'd rather they didn't, as well.
I watched Beauty and the Beast and it made me cry, because I'm, you know, nine years old. I want to call Mike but instead I'm going to sit here torturing myself wondering if he'll call me.
I'm a grown up, I swear.
O. Am going to buy a truck. That way I can put things in the back of it.
astera at 10:38 p.m.