the part about popping balloons was a stretch

a few little thoughts:

t. s. eliot is a god

i am much too much too reserved

with the exception of my cut-off shorts, i wish i could wear skirts every day

i don't know which version of this song i like better. i like different versions on different days. 

fat cats and quickly approaching curbs

I was a jazz age poet for Halloween. My literature teacher said that I should wear me costume when we study Jack Kerouac and the Beats. I died. On Saturday I went shopping for used cds with my dad, and we bought Nickel Creek, Miles Davis, Van Morrison, and Paul Simon. Monday Today was my dad's birthday, so we bought him an apple pie and Iron and Wine's Woman King album. We went to a little Italian restaurant and drank coffee. And now we are sitting around watching the election.

i'm sorry for you

really. i don't think you look familiar at all.

Today marks the beginning of a very long, very stressful week. I have too many articles to edit for newspaper, and by edit I mean tear down to quotes and bare bones and rebuild with my very own words. I have too many missing assignments from my week long pneumonia absence to make up, too many essays, translations, tests. And I have too many distractions (i.e. the office, chocolate milk, upcoming concerts, library volunteers). At least fall is one hundred percent here, and I have been celebrating with chai tea, sweaters, Neil Young, and great big books. And also red dresses that I will posting on soon. And, courtesy of a friend, I have discovered that I very much like Over the Rhine. Listen.