...transient attacks and an italian mouse...

I hate adults. I hate them in all their manifestations.

I hate the blond-haired, pearl wearing, Prada bag holding cultural precious ladies who talk to you against a bookshelf in the Health section.

I hate the curly-locked black plastic frame wearing artists who would not approve.

I even hate you. Hate the fact that you aren't calling. Hate your busy schedule. Hate art shows and Irish pubs. Did I mention that you aren't calling? WHY?!!!

I have no answers. All I have is half a girl guide cookie, a self-portrait of Geronimo plastered with stickers, and the beginnings of a zit four days before Ferdawsi. Even the fact that I have hot new shoes again today makes little difference right now.