Eventually, all those wigs I own will come in handy...and the 6-inch heels...because only God can judge me...and I'm still underemployed. Still.
I hate answering my phone because no one important ever calls me. No one.
If I try on something at Marshall's ever again and I even sort of like it, I'm hiding it in the little boys' section.
I had a very vivid dream of pushing someone I detest down a flight of stairs and it was glorious.
I'm seriously obsessed with dreadlocks. I stared at the back of this kid's head on the bus the whole ride; his were only a couple inches long, but I still found them to be very sexual.
Day 91: back to the locals.