Mine was pretty sweet too:

On the twelfth day of Christmas, ( Read more... )

Why I love whatever assembalege (the suite, the dorm, the school?) creates this atmosphere ( Read more... )

I intensely dislike the feeling of not focusing in one moment because one is planning the next--the rush for the completion of things, the deadlines, the nextnextnextness. Yet at the same time I am painfully aware of my inability to come to do such things on my own; I sit in the library thinking a sort of ifonly I had the luxury of time I would ( Read more... )

They're all foot-shuffling and that odd, stiff lounging of pretending to be casual. One of them, sporting an earring and an abscence of shirt, is an actual jerk. Some are so young they doodle hearts and armadillos on the table-paper in resturants without irony. Some (and I have never before viewed such behavior with such distanced amazement at the ( Read more... )

If I see one more glitter pen I will jam it into someone's eye and they will NEVER SEE FOR THE GLITTER ( Read more... )

It was a misplaced morning, everything off and lukewarm--accidentally being stood up for breakfast, traffic, my last Mexican chocolate sadly mediocre, my last scone sadly cold and a bit burnt, no seats at the cafe, breaking a bottle of cream soda in the garage right underneath the car's tires ( Read more... )

Is it possible to become pregnant just through the force of intense and frequent maternal feelings? Because I've gone beyond just wanting to steal babies ( Read more... )

Me, leaving a message for Ramya: " . . .You may not be answering because you're in the shower, in which case, you know, for a second there I was almost worried because I'M going to take a shower, and what if the hot water runs out, oh no, but then I realized that we don't ACTUALLY live in the same house, just the same head, so no problem there. ( Read more... )

A gaggle of us drove up to the top of the world at three this morning, in the insane half-reality of such an indefinable time. As befits the way we substitute innocence for bitterness, we substituted the sugar of a six-pack of cream soda for the expected beer, set up a blanket on the slope of Windy Hill (where, hooligans that we were, we were most ( Read more... )

Just now the doorbell rang, and my mum and I looked at each other and realized that neither of us were wearing pants. Which lead to my mother hopping about on one leg trying to get pants on so that she could answer the door ( Read more... )