(no subject)
Sometimes all I would like to really do is sit around and watch DVD's and pretend that there is not a world outside of which I have to work and be a part. And I just noticed that I avoided ending the sentence with a preposition which is becoming a terribly obsessive tendency of mine recently.
I am working on another script for this summer; other than a job and my dear single summer class on Visual Communications, that is my only plan. I set my aforementioned internship back one year to learn more of the skills that I will need to know this fall, so I will hopefully not be completely useless.
At the restaurant in Buffalo where I work, there's this delightfully petite black woman named Carla Wiggins who has taken me under her wing as her "lil caucasian daughta." She kind of reminds me of Grandmother Winslow, but a bit younger. She says her favorite things in the world are the Buffalo Sabres and chitlins. I really think I'm going to marry her.
Ah yes, and I have bangs.
What was great was that my [now former] hairstylist just kind of made a unilateral decision to shop off my hair when I didn't ask for it, and then blamed the weed for her hasty call. Her first stoned hair cut was worth the money, but now this is just ridiculous.
I'm going to go do lady things now, like clean and cook. But probably not cook.
I am working on another script for this summer; other than a job and my dear single summer class on Visual Communications, that is my only plan. I set my aforementioned internship back one year to learn more of the skills that I will need to know this fall, so I will hopefully not be completely useless.
At the restaurant in Buffalo where I work, there's this delightfully petite black woman named Carla Wiggins who has taken me under her wing as her "lil caucasian daughta." She kind of reminds me of Grandmother Winslow, but a bit younger. She says her favorite things in the world are the Buffalo Sabres and chitlins. I really think I'm going to marry her.
Ah yes, and I have bangs.
What was great was that my [now former] hairstylist just kind of made a unilateral decision to shop off my hair when I didn't ask for it, and then blamed the weed for her hasty call. Her first stoned hair cut was worth the money, but now this is just ridiculous.
I'm going to go do lady things now, like clean and cook. But probably not cook.