erry day now.
In an attempt to grasp some sort of consistency in my life, I will approach ummm yeah.
I saw a heard a car accident outside my window on Thursday. It sounded like when I knocked over my grandma's curio cabinet, except there were not bits of fake hair from porcelain dolls to muffle the explosion. This separation of noises carried the effect of going down a steep hill on your bike. My stomach sinks again at the thought.
Today has been a melancholy sort of ordeal, but the sun is on my back and there are smarmy tour groups in my face, adding to the delusion that I am not alone. Also- if I see one more god damn ShopKo backpack I'm going to fucking lose it. but uhhh doooooooood.
I'm in the middle of making a feather dress right now, but am flirting with frumpy in the idea that I will either look like I'm molting, or big bird's fucking slutty hoodrat. we'll see. I can't remember how I became like this.
This week:
1. headbands
2. taxes
3. guacamole
4. Schopenhauer
