I just emerged from the shower and a short cat nap. My hair smells fruity and if you get close, my skin smells like vanilla, which I cloak myself in when I'm at home. After strangely manic depressive days, with great happiness interspersed with the intense frustration that can only be created by distance and even more distant boys, I have wanderlust again. I kind of want to go to Sydney, and Melbourne, so I can visit darling Linda, and those lovely girls from the table gang we have lost to the Southern Hemisphere. Also, I've been seized by the desire to buy Sass and Bide jeans, which are sort of not available here or in most places in America, at least not for any decent price. I have red nails that are chipping but I like that about them, I have empty chocolate wrappers and an unmade bed. I feel kind of alive in an odd way, and I want to go take my life somewhere else.