There is no story to tell. I am just a girl. I’m kinda crazy, but not in a psycho stalker kind of way. More in a you never know what you’re gonna get from day to day kind of way. I don’t feel bad about that. I am who I am 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I pretend that I’m really creative and all that fun artsy stuff, but really I’m just too confused to make sense of this place. So, I call it art! I like to paint, but I’m no good at it. I used to make clothes, but I’ve since had to start doing things that pay bills. I fancy one day I’ll do it again. I’ve always wanted to buy a really old house with a lot of history and fix it up, but I’m not so handy. I’d like to win the lottery someday, but I don’t want to be rich. I just want to be able to spend my time doing things that matter or that I at least enjoy. I’ve been known to be a bit obsessive—again not psycho stalker just o’my gracious I love this song, band, movie, colour, fabric, pen, t-shirt whatever. My current obsessions include: “Hurt” by Christina Aguilera and the red dress she wore to perform it at the VMAs, P!nk (the singer not the colour), the big fat Bic pens with spongy grips that I’m really not even sure they make any longer, Suicide Girls, the tattoo I’m too chicken shit to get, dancing in front of mirrors when no one is watching, and Ray Lamontagne. I hate when people figure out my weaknesses. Mostly because I like people to think I’m invincible… not really. I hate being made fun of, but I can totally laugh at myself. I’m the clumsiest girl you’ll ever meet. I almost fall down the stairs in my house at least once a week. It drives me insane when people use improper grammar or spelling, but I never pay attention to my commas, periods, horribly incorrect usage of dashes and semicolons, run-on sentences, etc., and I’m addicted to dictionary.com.
