August 24, 2002 :: 11:18 p.m.
It's like camp. I hated camp.
I get no good email. None. Not at my hotmail account, anyway. All I get is junk, and some more junk, and oh, maybe a little more junk on the side. Argh.
I'm not in the best of moods right now. I'm feeling pretty down on myself and everything in general, and Emily (my roommate) is going to sleep, so I won't write much now. I don't want to disturb her with incessant key clacking. Because, you know, that's not nice. And she's a decently cool girl, even if she is on the phone more than anyone I've ever met, EVER. But hey. That's a minor sin compared to the monster-mate that I could have gotten. I don't even want to imagine.
I love Bj�rk. She's small and Icelandic and she screams and I love her. She's seranading me right now, with an appropriately melancholy tune. Sing, my little elf. Sing!
I'm going to watch another episode or two of Buffy and then get to bed. 'Night.
back & forth
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