I, I, I, I, I want to walk in the snow and not leave a footprint.

FUCKING SNOW. I FUCKING HATE YOU. JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY.

Holy nutsack. I swear, I went up to my room for like an hour, had the shades down, went online to Myspace and all these people were posting bulletins saying 'Do you think school will be cancelled?' and shit like that. The snow had mostly already melted from yesterday this afternoon when the sun came out, so I thought they were just being idiots. Then I went and looked out James' window and the fucking neighbourhood was covered in snow. The roads look hella bad too, and from the looks of it, some people couldn't even drive all the way through. There's cars parked along the sides of the streets and I saw some people get out of one and just start walking. Diagonally.

Fuck. Good thing I can't drive. But I still hate it.

BUT BUT BUT on the brightside my mum got stranded in downtown Renton and called James to say she was going to a Holiday Inn (no Hilton?!?) and she'd call him from there. Which I thought meant she wasn't coming home tonight. But of course she found a way to plow past the ice with her death-ray stare and she just called James again and said to pick her up at Shari's. How she got there I will never know. Hot damn. Today was one of those days when it would be safer for me if she couldn't come into contact with me for the rest of the day. Fuck this too. But mostly fuck the snow for being like a bastardass confusing girlfriend and changing its mind as to whether or not people can drive through it.

Anyways they should be home soon. So I should probably get off the computer now. Plus all this white shit has given me some more inspiration for my next I-really-need-a-boy/girlfriend mix-tape.

See ya! Try not to freeze to death before my next blogga logga.

She Moves in Her Own Way

And right now that way is toward the Kooks.
Towards England.
Or New York.
Or California (LA region only, I don't do deserts).

Fucking shit, can Renton be more boring? Could I be anymore Chandler-ish?

Hot douche. I wish I were Blythe.
No, not Blythe Danner. Although brunch with Gwynnie wouldn't be too shitty...
But no. I mean the Blythe. What a fucking glamour girl. Especially in this hat. I want to become a fashion designer for the sole purpose of outiftting this chick. And occasionally myself. And maybe Rayanne Graff, in a perfect world. IN A PERFECT WORLD.

In a perfect world I'd have my own credit card too. I've been totally fucking eBay crazy this last month. But of course I have no way to buy things online by myself and have to use mum's bank account, which she never leaves money in. Anywho, I'm fucking excited because I just got this old Delias butterfly top that I wanted forever, but it sold out before I could get to it. Fucking six dollars, hell yeah Ima thrifter. So far I'm winning these two French Connection and Christian Dior shirts, all the more reason to love myself. And to love these cute little Japanese girls with the fucking most awesome kid-in-you store ever.

Speaking of Japanese, I am still being recognised as such. I think one actual Asian guy could tell I wasn't. Fun stuff. Maybe I should drape myself in my real flag so people aren't so confused. I smell another hideous downtown Seattle bookstore-cafe-in-one trend emerging!

Rubbish.
Time to go continue failing Kramer/Cramer however the hell he spells his bloody name. Either way, I still love his oversized hook-and-eye ethnic sweaters.

Against Military Free Zone?

PLEASE PEOPLE. I need an interview with someone who opposes trying to get military recruiters out of school. Or at least anyone who's really fond of the military and wants them to stay in public high schools. PLEASE. I need another viewpoint!