This Ain't No Tea Party, Princess

Dear Tarani,

Where are you? Life is a waiting room without you.

I have to give up things. I'm afraid that there will be nothing to fill the space once I do this. I just ate a candy that I found in my pocket. It was a fortuitous find.

I am angular, jagged. The artist is only learning. I am his first project. He has no vision, only brute strength. Detritus gathers beneath me. I cannot stoop to gather the pieces. I end up misshapen, yet I am placed on a pedestal. I cannot remove myself.

Things that happen to humans are not all that interesting.

Love,
the animated experiencer, aka the aggressive player

One Time You Died, and I Ended Up a Mexican

The weather's finally changing, and I love it. The wind, the cool air in the evening, the leaves slowly changing. This is my favorite time of the year: from now until bitter winter, I will be happily in my element. I just spent a small fortune filling my closet with great new fall clothes: an army-green & sand-striped minidress with a snuggly cowl neck, two 3/4 length-sleeved shirts that are as soft as butter, a short belted denim dress with rolled sleeves, an animal print bag with leather tassels, super-skinny jeans, a royal blue v-neck sweater, a long thin navy cardigan that drapes like silk, a camo-print miniskirt, super-soft gray (and black: couldn't get only one pair of these babies) jeans that I can actually get my butt into without the waist gapping open. And then I went to Charming Charlie's and loaded up on new baubles: necklaces, earrings, cuff bracelets, funky rings. I keep eyeing the new boots, but I have so many already; my minimalist decorating style sometimes reaches over into the closet areas of my life and chastises me for having so many shoes. Must weed footwear.

Must weed everything, actually. I have to learn how to travel lighter.