dems girls, got an eye for fashion and a nose for trouble? is nothing sacred/secret? no, and do I want it to be so? who knows. the literary mind wants an epic troubled hero, a stoic soldier dying alive from the inside. though everywhere they say ahhh its alright say speak sing your troubles (sing muse!) and we will drink up sorrow and it will turn to wine at our lips touch. mmm lovely and luscious, my pride, it keeps the back arrow straight twists the gums upwards into a semblance of a grin. no, no, its alright everything is fine. and when i think about it, what do I really have to complain about? nothing. there is no natural right. the female world, strange indeed.

i have alot of work to do.

is devouring me. jesus mother lord stasodimad.

why, integrals? WHY?

fancy that kiddo, it might work out after all, yeah?

outlined a paper, froze in time, and tried to be happy. check check check!


hahhh ah my god.

boys (and girls), what can i do?

ah i've hurt a few and then some. how long then will i hold off talking down and dirty to the lad(s)?

holy caaaatts i's gotsta find some outside of bradbury people. problems problems problems.


sex drive forcibly reduced to zero, contemplating being lesbian. aaannnddd speed bumps ahead. honestly, where am i going here? sideways, thats how i roll.

I went to Turkey, to Turkey, to Turkey.

Funny thing, in Turkey they call India Hindistan. And in Turkish, Hindi means turkey (as in the bird). So India becomes "land of turkey." How delicious indeed.

Now i'm back from Turkey and have been for about a week actually, more like exactly a week. Today is the last day of 2006, and tomorrow we enter a cold land of odd numbered years. *shudder* those damn dirty odd numbers. Too bad it's RAINING instead of snowing uffta sucks don' it?


Very excited to be colleging back and to whip my poor, putty like body back into rock solid shape. I will be grating the parmesan cheese for my fresh basil pesto on my abs in no time. I can see all this "oh Nora, you're young and have a high metabolism" special treatment has been revoked. I must now earn back this privalege, with singlemindedness, style, and infinate grace. Not just a little piece of grace. A whole infinity of the stuff. I will even take before and after pictures and attribute my astonishing fitness to some yet to be determined majik pill and make millions of dollars before the feds break into my house and discover its been cocaine all along. Y'know, that stuff will help you shed pounds in NO time. Men would rather have a thin girl than a smart girl anyways--easier to throw around in bed, cheaper to feed. More beef for caveman.

Book 1 of Nicomachean Ethics is rather miserably calling me. I must heed. *grumbles off*

damn damn damn damn damn damn damn daaaaaaaaaaaaaaammmit.

and i'm leaving aGAIN.




so then i waited in the car on the side of the road for 10 minutes, but it seemed much longer than that and tried not to but cried anyways the moment i turned and drove all back home it'll never never never never never never end. tell me (dahling) then why when i need to find them i'm lost for words no matter how much i change in/at/during chicago i'll come back home and be exactly the same sad sad sad sad person. ah, if only to be cute and curl up in a ball and have people pat my head sympathetically, but no, god has deemed me an unapprochable amazon with a fiery shield and pair of circumcision scissors and a head of ice to cool the sssting. i'm too biiiigg just want to shrink down down down to a pixie complete with fairy dust quaint and pretty. because, really, i don't have very much to say. meh, i cry too much, unfortunately.



egads! must be happy.

juicy lords above, i return! ah madcrazyness. oops. self image problems interrupt trains of thought. return to sender. whistle blows. -fin

sleeping darling is so wonderful, i dream and dream and i forget it ALL. now how to avoid the massive knot of problems hanging like a brick at the end of a thread, spinning, threatening to fall on our heads. the cool kids tell us darling to forget it and siiink into the clay that molds us and suffoct grinning in its sweet embrace. tralalala. what i need is

want?


desire?


luuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuust?


tsssssssssusehsehseh such a silly gander. skip along, skip to your loo. oh my, yes, the loo is just down the hall, at your right, room number 408. double doors, gilded chamber pots, the like. a charming lad he was that built, always an eye for the ladies.