"I have scars on my hands

from touching certain people. Once, in the park, when Franny was still in the carriage, I put my hand on the downy pate of her head and left it there too long. Another time, at Loew's Seventy-second Street, with Zooey during a spooky movie. He was about six or seven, and he went under the seat to avoid watching a scary scene. I put my hand on his head. Certain heads, certain colors and textures of human hair leave permanent marks on me. Other things, too. Charlotte once ran away from me, outside the studio, and I grabbed her dress to stop her, to keep her near me. A yellow cotton dress I loved because it was too long for her. I still have a lemon-yellow mark on the palm of my right hand. Oh, God, if I'm anything by a clinical name, I'm kind of a paranoiac in reverse. I suspect people of plotting to make me happy."

I'm sorry if you have tried to call; I have no idea where my phone is. I'm hoping to find it soon, though. More like I'm hoping it will spontaneously pop up, but it won't, sadly. I feel quite guily for not having it, as I forced you into agreeing to call me.

Happy four-month Blog Anniversary!

I have to buy a bouncy ball for Ceramics class. And I really, really, really need to earn a fifty on this sketchbook to bring up my grade.

Oh, life, and money, and raising it. It saddens me that for everything has to revolve around money. We can help each other out in various ways. It doesn't have to be money.

Music can make me so sad.

My grandmother made spaghetti tonight, but it was not as good as Stephanie's, which was a shame. She still doesn't remember what grade I am in, nor does the rest of my family, and she seems more obsessed with a certain lame cousin's show choir than with any of the Brinkers girls combined. It's aiight, however.

With the end of the movie, the Ragpicker realized that she did, as previously mentioned, have tasks to complete that day, and with dread in her heart, she mentioned to the Ticketmaster that they must be on their way. Naturally, the Ticketmaster was to come along, for as they had been reunited, they were not likely to ever voluntarily part, but she knew that the following actions would, indeed, hurt the Ticketmaster, and it killed her inside that they must leave the calm sanctuary that was the stuffy dollar theatre.

It was so beautiful today, and I realized just how much I prefer the warm weather and what a difference in my mood it makes. I made my family listen to what I considered to be "Spring Music" all day long. They kind of wanted to kill me. They are worried about you, by the way, and keep asking if I have talked to you. I have to remind them that I CANNOT FIND MY PHONE, at which they shake their heads. My mom kept asking, "Did she want to leave? Was she sick of us? Why didn't she stay until tomorrow? You know I would have driven her to school! Did she just want to get home?"

Kim is here.
I am studying for Physics.
I don't want to make this blog entry long because I want you to respond tonight.
But, if you don't, I just might expand.


La. La. La.