i'm dumb, and being without a phone is miserable, already. i'm stressed. i'm stressin'. i'm buggin'. i'm a bug. i'm kafka. i'm kafka-esque. my computer's spell check says "esque" is not a word. or at least is misspelled. i do not agree. i went to a "wicken" store today and learned the proper way to wish to candles. BE POSITIVE. KNOCK THREE TIMES. LEAVE THE LIGHT ON. (oddly cliches, no? how POP is wicca?) I have reading to do and organizing to do and so much to do and just really no more positive expectations of being productive tonight. I'm making the most expensive jeans i've ever owned. (by making, i mean paying to have them tailored to a tune more expensive than they originally were. not creating. not fabricating. not.) i'm maybe reconnecting with my 2nd oldest friend. i will never have anything in common with my first friend, ever, again. my hair is short and i'm blogging. everything is connected. i couldn't be more pissed at my stupidity, thus i'll read and write and wine. but, really, if i wine i will not read. i am not delusional. i have to write, kindof, scholastically this semester, a lot. i guess i'll need that coffee pot. it will be american drip, not french press, not italian press, not pink-stippled-copper. just...drip...

quiche protagonist would have a problem with not utilizing her ideal first coffee-maker, too. it is the first i have thought of Her (not It) in 7 years. i literally don't even know if that means i should write or not. i mean, i don't think it means "not" but i've never had any inclination to fiction. i did write those two first NYC lines down, dann. (as if there were another reader? but this really isn't all for you. it's ideally consumable to a third-wall-unbroken audience.) "she only buys wine based on the label." --that's me, and my sister. we trust the gestalt. the whole, the shebang.

i never paragraph. literally can't imaging a blog post in which i've done it. (without "artistic" spacing. HA, xanga/zanga.) {i was so mad at you, dann, for not chronologing/"chronicling" our night to PC Richards and Son. there was no need for you to, really. I did a bang-up job. but still. you didn't pull through. and now xanga is gone and [currently, the third-wall is gone]}. BUT, i spaced for "quiche protagonist." she is so separate. but, really, right then, she was literally me. i don't even need wine/"whine", i already feel trippy. /////that was a finale enough. i'll never continue past an "organic" ending, no matter how much there is to say.