I Corinthians 13


The tips of my fingers are raw and at a closer look they've actually turned blue. Gads, I'm hardcore.

I'm teaching myself to play the guitar, and so that my rockstardom will be a latent possibility in the future.

It's helpful to have experience with another string instrument and although violin strings are softer to push down, guitar is by far the easiest to learn of the two; heh, of course, I've only learned a few chords.

I'm currently in Chapel Hill and I have a mind to bang pots and yodel in order to keep myself entertained *yells in direction of the other room* because Jemima won't wake up!

I know she's unhappy. Matters of the heart. I couldn't ~possibly~ understand. Her biggest complaint with Philly is that he's not making any effort in the relationship. She's tired of breaking up with him and he's tired of her breaking up with him and I'm more tired of it than both of them. I love Phil; he could easily be part of the family. But they're just not healthy for each other. And really, I've not known love to be healthy except in the movies. Maybe I was a romantic once but I can't remember anymore.

So then. Well I hope some of her chums will be over tonight to cheer her up because I don't think I'm doing a good enough job. Jay said he'd be here and I'm looking forward to it. Just to prove to you how cool this guy is, he let me paint his fingernails. And not just any color: red, bloody red. Whoo, that's him at the door. Right-o! More to report later.

10.12.02 - 11:02 p.m.


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