cimorene

i've been diddling around for. a long time. trying to make the time pass. i mean, i was talking to

hollsk for a while, which isn't without value, but then again... i don't know, man. i'm just waiting for things to come through now--the residence permit, the housing application. there's nothing left i can do. i can't even pack until i get to alabama. i don't even remeber if i gave notice for the 7th or the 14th.

i feel like i've been pulling with all my weight on a rope and the person at the other end let go. and now my ass is sore, and i haven't remembered that what i'm supposed to do in cases like this is stand up. honestly, that wasn't meant to be deep. it was meant to be pouty: picture my pouty face.

at least tomorrow i'll have money to blow on jalapeño cheddar tortillas and goldfish crackers and peach yogurt and. maybe cookies.

i've had a horrid breakout lately. i counted eleven pimples, many overlapping, just in the center of my left cheek, and there's a new one on the cheekbone, and a few on the hairline and under the edge of my jaw--those areas had finally, thank god, cleared up just a few weeks ago. this is what happens when stress comes back into your life. there's nothing that will fix my complexion, not even carrot juice, if i'm under stress. is it worth my recent chocolate-free existence?

tropical (pineapple/papaya/mango) fruit leathers, from stretch island, are divine.