Confused or not, I am pretty happy. I miss Scott; he went to L.A. for a few days because he has Monday off school. I have to work, and I wasn't really invited. So I'm here. But Nick came down to visit with Nora today. Sort of just came out of the blue. Fucked up the plans I forced Doug into with me. But that's another story that really no one gives a fuck about. I hadn't seen Nora, exept maybe at a show or two, since Nick and I went to visit her in Switzerland over Christmas a year and a half ago. She, also, is too easy to read, and maybe that's why I don't really want to be friends with her. I like her, and I wouldn't mind, and I had a fucking amazing time in Switzerland, but I don't go out of my way to be great friends. It doesn't matter, really, she's Nick's friend, not mine, and I think no one thinks much more of it. Ramble ramble scramble scrabble.

More: like: the pme5 meter prism viewfinder I am going to try and buy on eBay tomorrow for $700 dollars, Ted Baker, Scotty Alexander Kepford, John Reed's social idealism, Douglas Adam's careless humour, folded laundry and made beds, lighters that say Switzerland on them, flowers planted in pepsi cans filled with water, Italian skinhead bands, cozy fires, seven foot tall stuffed bears that Scott puts in my bed and sleeps with us, idealism, romantic gestures, public sex, Rosie: the 'Winner's Bitch,' rings that have meaning to me, lyrics, gay erotica, sleep.

Dislike: I don't like not liking things. And if you call me a fucking hippie I'll kill you so dead. SO DEAD!