You know when you have a single stray hair stuck to your bare arm?

And you cannot see it or remove it yourself BUT YOU KNOW IT'S THERE. Because you can feel it. Sense it. DRIVING YOU CRAZY.

This is the level of IRKED-NESS I am currently experiencing. (I mean, the hair thing happens too. I shed.) But. Something completely unrealted, but that generates the same level of RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGE.

I know a Person. She believes that she is Very Creative, and thus likes to Captialize. Random words. Like this. And use pun. Cuation. WHERE THERE SHOULD BE NO PUNCTUATION AT ALL.

She's a rebel, people.

She once even...DYED HER HAIR. It was blonde, BUT NOW IT'S BROWN. Oh. My. God. I realize it is hard to comprehend, but yes. SHE WENT THERE. The media tells you to be blonde and SHE AIN'T LISTING TO THE MAN, SISTA. I realize that NO ONE HAS DONE THIS BEFORE and that it may be TOO MUCH for you to handle because this was A STATEMENT. About herSelf. That she is very busy discovering. AND TELLING ME/YOU/LARRY KING/ THE UNIVERSE about. Then I had this fantasy that involved punching her in the teeth.

It was beautiful.

Anyway, we're writing for the same "creative" publication. There's a section where all the contributors answer a question from the editor.

This week's question: "What song lyrics describe your summer mantra?"

Her answer: "Summer days, drifting away...to oh-oh those summer nights."

Oh. My. CHEESEBURGER.

THAT WAS WHAT YOU CAME UP WITH? IN ALL YOUR DARK, ALL-BLACK-WEARING LISTENING TO THE SPICE GIRLS BECAUSE THAT MAKES YOU REEEEETRO SELF-NESS, THAT WAS WHAT YOU CAME UP WITH? FUCKING GREASE?

I'm going to stab her with a spork. Then I'm going to post a picture of it on her Xanga and call it Performan.ce aRt.

/Wave your hands in the air/If you feel fine/We're gonna take it into overtime/Welcome to the space jam

people disappear. good, bad, book touring, parkhursted. saving kids in india, dropping out, interning with goldman, "leave."

" leave" can mean so many things, but sometimes it is too easy to figure it out.

she was so fragile.

i wonder what they did with her, where she is. if she's scared. and i wish i could fix her, this person who used to be my friend, but the only one who can do that is her.

sometimes it's too much and we don't make it.

ISRAELI-PALESTINIAN-CONFLICT-MUFFIN

I'm back on the North American continent but I think that broke my brain.

I'll be with you as soon as I'm more sane/no longer jetlagged/get over my sudden withdrawl from Spanish coffee

Also, "honking" is a completely awesome word

Fact of the day: First communions are a BIG HONKING DEAL around here and people take a TRUCKLOAD of pictures.

Minor annoyance of the day: Then they show EVERY SINGLE PICTURE to their foreign exchange student. There are only so many times I can say, “Oh, she looks pretty” and sound sincere, chica.

(Also, nice shots of you, sweetheart. Did you actually wear THAT MUCH makeup to church? And they let you IN? ¡Hostia!)

Linguistics

Lidia comes for lunch sometimes.

I have noticed, if they are in a fight, Paquita refers to her as “mi hija.” My daughter.

But if they aren’t in a fight, it’s “mi niña.” My little girl. My baby.

Does she think about her word choice?

Does Lidia care?

Do I analyze things to death?

POR. FA. VOR.

WHAT? What what what what WHAT?

AY MUJER.

So you usually DON’T take a nap after lunch, but if you have lunch with me and are thus TALKING to someone, YOU HAVE TO TAKE A NAP BECAUSE THAT MAKES YOU OUT OF BREATH?

Talking makes you out of breath? Madre FREAKING mia.

Oh you’d like my year-and-a-half-of-pre-med opinion? Is it because you’re getting old? NO, I DON’T THINK IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE GETTING OLD. I THINK IT’S BECAUSE YOU SMOKE THREE HUNDRED THOUSAND CIGERETTES A SECOND. HAS THAT EVER OCCURRED TO YOU?

Oh.

Of course not.

DUH.