2002-04-18 || 11:04 a.m.

|| written on the inside of my eyelids on this, a dire thurday mid-morning. ||

looking up emma forrest on the innernet (soooo lovely!). eavesdropping on online kids, officemates (the creepy middle aged fellow is sifting through the porn in his yahoo mail.), the sweeties lanking about the outside of the record store. feeling altogether too sensitive about buddy list/profile comments. nursing new crushes. wanting to listen to the smiths nonstop today. wanting to run to the record store on break to buy more smiths to make this so. feeling black (pressed pants) and blue (collared) and red (the dark browny hair dye just won't hold) all over. thinking of cosmic road trip outfits. scheduling time this evening for a jaunt to the fabric store for embroidery floss for owen's fabulous birthday present (dear owen, it's fabulous! love, jenny.). making flailing attempts at keeping an impending cold from shacking up in my throat. secretly enjoying the gravely sex voice that results from said throat shack-up. counting days until the boy gets back (16). spying on the man (known as 'rawr') who looks like jesse the body ventura in an orange puffy jacket crowing like a rooster on the corner of telegraph and channing. wishing i hadn't eaten those cookies fer breakfast. trying to figure out where to fit in new york. imagining a) how crazy fun it will be getting into slap fights on ny sidewalk and getting lost and terrorizing molly with bestfriendy belmondo, and b) how crazy awkward it will be breaking it to the boyfriendy that i am going on a trip to new york with bestfriendy/firstlove/leading man belmondo. hoping it will be warm enough to sit outside for lunch. missing joe and brian. dreaming of staying home and watching shipmates and elimidate and rendez-view while lying in bed, windows open, cat in a good mood, tomato soup warmin on the stove.

isn't she lovely? omg i love her.

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