Hmm-Haw.
I'm kind of amazed at how many of my friends work/have worked with autistic children. I'm secretly terrified of it, mostly because I'm afraid of doing something inadvertently traumatic. Yes, it's surprising that I'm even able to leave the house with this sort of mindset.
In addition, I'm swirling through a bizarre manic period of wonderfullness. This week, I've made 8 dozen cookies, applied for 6 jobs, and cleaned infinite piles of laundry. I've talked to strangers about seagulls. I don't think I'm getting an ulcer. I've gotten over my fear of the post-office guy (not the one with the prison tattoos...the other one) and finally sent out wedding invitations.
Strangely enough, I'm pretty sure that I have fewer phobias than most people. Maybe.
I've openly confessed that I believe that my dead brother stopped by as a sparrow on his birthday last week. This also means that I finally confessed to Matt's parents that I even have a dead brother. And that I have adopted my own sense of reincarnation. Hence, that's how an insecure cat embodies a former sadistic Soviet dictator. And how the golden retriever captured Houdini's soul. Although, this means that Houdini was...well...a little lacking in common sense...and can't walk up stairs.
Maybe it's all the flax I've been eating lately.
I saw 'Match Point' last night, since I follow Woody Allen on any of his journeys. Except 'Bananas'. Fuck that. I did like 'Match Point' though, because it played a mean game of tug o' war with any preconceptions I had about it. Hooray! Tonight, it's probably 'Good Night, and Good Luck'.
Sometimes, I think that if George Clooney was to hug me, I would just cry alot. I wouldn't even try to make out with him. Jeez. I bet he would laugh and stroke my hair, mostly because of the hippie tea tree shampoo I use. George Clooney would like that.
"Ha-ha. Mmm...is that balm mint?"
"Fuck yeah it is, George Clooney!"
I'm thinking about making an asymmetrical necklace.
In addition, I'm swirling through a bizarre manic period of wonderfullness. This week, I've made 8 dozen cookies, applied for 6 jobs, and cleaned infinite piles of laundry. I've talked to strangers about seagulls. I don't think I'm getting an ulcer. I've gotten over my fear of the post-office guy (not the one with the prison tattoos...the other one) and finally sent out wedding invitations.
Strangely enough, I'm pretty sure that I have fewer phobias than most people. Maybe.
I've openly confessed that I believe that my dead brother stopped by as a sparrow on his birthday last week. This also means that I finally confessed to Matt's parents that I even have a dead brother. And that I have adopted my own sense of reincarnation. Hence, that's how an insecure cat embodies a former sadistic Soviet dictator. And how the golden retriever captured Houdini's soul. Although, this means that Houdini was...well...a little lacking in common sense...and can't walk up stairs.
Maybe it's all the flax I've been eating lately.
I saw 'Match Point' last night, since I follow Woody Allen on any of his journeys. Except 'Bananas'. Fuck that. I did like 'Match Point' though, because it played a mean game of tug o' war with any preconceptions I had about it. Hooray! Tonight, it's probably 'Good Night, and Good Luck'.
Sometimes, I think that if George Clooney was to hug me, I would just cry alot. I wouldn't even try to make out with him. Jeez. I bet he would laugh and stroke my hair, mostly because of the hippie tea tree shampoo I use. George Clooney would like that.
"Ha-ha. Mmm...is that balm mint?"
"Fuck yeah it is, George Clooney!"
I'm thinking about making an asymmetrical necklace.
posted by Di-Di at 12:07 PM
2 Comments:
Nice! Where you get this guestbook? I want the same script.. Awesome content. thankyou.
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