*cat power, i'd never be able to guess you had a spanish accent from your songs. 2001-05-03 11:49 p.m.*

i do not feel well. like i think i might vomit. i think that would be bad. i think it was either the tofurkey jerky or the bugles but i don't think it was the massaman curry with tofu with the three potatoes. and it is not the funk.

i just kicked michael out. i feel bad. i just... needed time alone. like suddenly i was like, i have to be alone now. i think it was the vomit feeling. but also this creative writing assignment that's due tomorrow. actually i have 2 creative writing assignments due tomorrow... the sarasota story and i have to be workshopped on may 11 (the birthday) so i have to give people my stories tomorrow. i haven't written a word of either yet. but i have ms works open (yes, i don't have word. no, i have works), so it will happen. something will happen.

"most of all the funk. help him find the funk."

we went to boogie woogie in bradenton, and it was really scary because there was this guy who sounded like john who was working there so i thought he may have come to this other store. and i bought a large stack of cds like i am wont to do, but the one i was most excited about... some funk compilation with all the funk songs i wanted on it... was mislabeled so they couldn't find it, so i got pure funk instead which is fun, but it's missing some songs i wanted. anyway, as i was passing, john-boy called me "sweetheart." i was unimpressed. when we got in the car, i called him fucker a number of times. which reminds me that for some reason tsk was in the b-dorm lounge when michael and i were coming back from various non-b-dorm adventures. and he asked if we would come in and say hi, and we simultaneously said, "no." i proceeded to call him a motherfucker in the privacy of my own room, which means once again that i'm a horrible person, because i personally find that the most offensive "cuss word."

my burps taste like tofurkey jerky. i think we have found the culprit. man, do i feel nasty ass.

we also went to tjmaxx and got the sexiest clothes in the world. i got a shirt with lots of silkscreened "buttons" that say such deep things as "i love me" and "peace love shooms" [sic]... and then peace signs and stuff. and then in the men's section i found a skirt. well, okay, so it's supposed to be a bathrobe, wrap around towel thing, but it's a way sexy skirt to me.

"send me forget me nots to help me to remember. then please forget me not. i want you to remember."

i just signed lisa frank's guestbook in a very clever and witty manner. i will say it was my idea.

well, that was a bugle burp.

the story is not written. michael don't hate me. billy don't lose my number.

the point is. i express my paranoias because i'm secure enough to acknowledge them.

*listening to: *
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