My sparkly mini Christmas tree and drying underwear…

… are currently decorating my kitchen counter-top.

Today I washed a load of “delicates” in my kitchen sink and now they’re chillin on the counter looking like some sort of strange kitchen-themed lingerie shop.

And then, for some reason I just starting thinking about this website that I built when I was 12 or 13, and how awesome it was. I had one page that was just flashing gifs; one — obviously — of photo; one of those funny surveys that we used to forward around (What’s your favorite color? What are your nicknames? Who was your first crush?) and so on for at least a hundred questions.

I think I’ll try to look one up and fill it out. I wonder if those kind of flimsy awkward definitions are sort of the best you can get. Or maybe that fleetingness, (or in kinder, gentler terms: “adaptability”) is just me and I shouldn’t be so freaked out.

I tend to like bulletin boards and clothespins and mobiles because I can shift them around as I shift around.

Thinking about that website also makes me think about how much I buzzed with naive lust when I was young. Since this so-called public journal is just starting out, I’ll spare the details, but I can remember dreams with (always) thin, dark-haired boys and prancing around in a silky Japanese dressing gown that my grandma probably bought me, taking my hair up and down and pouting my lips in front of the mirror.


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