finally a friday again.

I managed to clinch reservations at the Mill, thank god, considering that I only managed to get it done yesterday. though we have to be there a couple of minutes earlier to make sure we get our table. but whatever. we're going be at the Mill! thats enough for me.

the sore point is, I still won't be able to order wine, even at my own 18th dinner. sickening. its alright I suppose. its not like I even like wine. but thats not really the issue; this is all a matter of principle, because I should be able to have alcohol at my eighteenth.

the only people who aren't technically 'legal' yet would be Pam and Kiz. at least I won't be last, hah.

I hate seas, and distances.

I won't have the usual girl dilemma of what to wear or any of that because Pam's birthday present is a multi-purpose worry alleviator. call her superwoman, please.

thanks for telling me.

oh, I'm pumped for tomorrow. pumpity pump-abump. thats me. aha. sometimes its funny how I can be sad and happy at the same time. colliding cars in my spinal cord to come up with all these things I get angry about.

I have eight weeks till the gallows and elysium, and everything is a mix of good and bad and things I shouldn't be thinking of in my head. isn't it funny how I always begin coherent then just disintegrate into mindless solecisms that only make sense if you read it left to right in mirrors?

here's the beginning of a letter I want to write:

stop it.

you are no way involved in this, so please back out.
I know that I was someone you usually did tell things to, and were very open with.
but excuse me if I'm not like that with you.

what I do is my business. I know that other people tell you things about it, but you two have been friends longer and closer than I have ever been with you and sometimes that rankles. I appreciate you trying to help, and caring about it;
but please.
this is not something I want to share with anyone else, this is not something I am inclined to discuss with anyone else. if I have problems, I will sort them out. if it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out. I know you're only trying to help, but I am not like everyone else you've probably met.

I am not going to tell you about every little friction and spark that happens.
so please just stop, and spare me.






ETA: I just found out that Marlon Brando ate himself to obesity and eventually death.
Way to go about completely ruining my day.
Thanks a lot.