I have an awkward sunburn consisting of a little patch on the back of my neck, a patch on my left ankle, and the top of my right hand. I don't get it but it's a bit uncomfortable. Not to mention funny looking.

George Sand's autobiography, comprised of a bunch of letters she wrote some peeps, mostly her mom, is entitled: "Story of My Life." Terrible. And so so good.

One of Jackye's friends is at Paradiso right now too. But I only know her because of how much I've facebook creeped Jackye. I'm a bit of a sad pup. But it's wasted energy, I suppose. Ah well.

I like my green pen from the deaf guy that was used by the crazy ladies at Panera on Monday. Is it weird that that's what's keeping me going? I guess that's the story of my life. HA. Oops. Nice work, Kinzie.

I am stressing about subletting, which is funny because I actually found someone. Problems and feelings. That's what I got goin' on.

I'm going to eat a grapple now.