I wonder if she's the the girl in the movie where the little boy draws a picture of the two bums and tells his brother it's how love is and they will poo back and forth forever and ever. What was that movie called? I loved the girl in it. I love her hair. I wish I had her hair. Maybe I do or can? I would never trust a hair stylist to even try that hair because my hair isn't really that curly and the bangs would just go wrong because of the cowlicks. Mark and Kain had cowlicks. I remember always thinking that a cow had actually licked their foreheads and made their hairlines look like that. It was so cute how they had matching cowlicks. I think it's weird that I still meet people that don't know what cowlicks are. I know some people have them in random places on their head. In the middle. The back. Underneath. I have the one. Maybe one and half. Annoying. I wish my hair was curlier or straighter. But at least I never have to brush it. I wonder when the last time I brushed it was. I think there was a week in June that I tried brushing it with hopes of improving its health. That never lasts long. I found a knot in the back of my hair today. A knot. I don't get knots. Maybe I should start dreading my hair. The knot is proof that it can dread but I always had the feeling my hair was too slippery for dreads. They look nice on other people. I might just look more scraggly than I already do. More like the hobo my mom thinks I am sometimes. Like when we're out with my sister and the three of us are shopping, like we usually do, I always feel like I should have changed my jeans or washed off yesterdays mascara or at least smoothed out my three day old hair. But I think I only care about that stuff when I'm with them. Or with people that put too much thought into the way they look. Because I think that people that think too much about it are not doing it because they actually like it but because they want people to like them. It's a trap. A web of lies. A web of fashiony lies decorated with make up and hairspray. Even the make up thing I never really took to. I did for a while when I wanted people to like me or at least for boys to notice me. Then I got lazy and realized that there are boys in the world that don't care about girls with make up and fancy clothes. And then I stopped with the layers but always kept the mascara. I like mascara. It makes my eyes feel awake. It might actually open my eyes a little. It's nice. It doesn't make me feel like a prostitute like wearing too much eye shadow or blush does. Especially lipstick. I think the last time I bought lipstick was in grade seven. It was called Burnt Sienna. It was kind of brown and dark. I can't believe I wore dark brown lipstick when I was 13. Fucking weird. But at least I didn't pair it up with short skirts and belly shirts. I was always too chubby to wear belly shirts anyways. Well, I dunno that I was chubby but certainly in no condition to bare my belly and a belly it was. Oh my sweet little thirteen year old self. I love her so much
Wish I could take care of her a little. Give her a little guidance. I need some guidance. We all need guidance
The man I hear finishing his late dinner on the patio below surely needs some guidance. Why is he eating on the patio when it's so cold and rainy outside? The rain hasn't stopped for two days
I want the sun to come back.
Even if it means sweating my life away again.
I hope it doesn't rain for when I move. I hope I can move tomorrow. I'll call Diego in the morning. Remember to call Diego in the morning
Go to the post office. Call Kathleen. And Joel
Don't forget the post office
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