Friday, Dec. 02, 2005 - 2:22 p.m.
pickle as always

November is a terrible month to write a novel. Way to go Rufies!!! You finished it. I'm so impressed. I got all of five hundred words before I was cruelly distracted by essays, a play and X-Box Golf.

Maybe next year. I always have such high aspirations but I never do quite make it. That's the story of my life.

Considerable high aspirations with men, career, future plans, but I never quite get it, do I?

I painted my toenails black today. I feel so very Gwen Stefani. I just wish I had nicer feet.

I'm trying to change my flight in the Dominican Republic from the 19th to the 12th. It's proving rather difficult. It's going to cost me $500 to do that.

But it looks like I'm going to have to. SHITFUCK. I was too hasty in choosing my return dates when I booked. This upsets me. I should have thought about it. 17 days in a place I don't REALLY need/want to go to is upsetting enough, but I have to go to school too and I...

Oh man I don't know. I don't even want to go at all anymore, but I think Doug and Shirley would be so disappointed if I didn't go. So would Evelyn. I don't know what to do.

Any suggestions?


ne gallum quidem...

old fish - red fish? blue fish? - new fish