10:13 a. m. » The Little Angel and the Little Bugs

Serena was, but after her hopelessly recurring (and daily) morning swing of violent and verbally abusive rage, on her best behavior today; something that is -- I was inclined to say "always," but cannot (and remain honest), as this nature has not yet shown any sort of frequency -- a relief, I suppose you could say. I discovered a dozen or more brownie-sized fractions of styrofoam in the lower-lever bathroom sink today while doing soo-soo -- I didn´t wash my hands. She almost got away with this art project after (again, almost) breaking my little heart by explaining that she´d made it for me because she couldn´t find any more paper (?). I assembled a kiddie chair and table for our little darling, which also fed today´s (suspiciously?) constant chain of charm. I can no longer remember what my point there was (I may have been approaching one having to do with how smart she is or isn´t?), but it may thrill you to learn that I have no fewer than 31 insect bites on my body, and spied, today, a small centipede-like creature in the house, a site that sparked all sorts of speculation and imagery of these gatuitously limbed beasts leisurely zigzagging up and down my limbs as I slept, which didn´t bother me because of how hideous I find them or how much I downright loathe them -- because I do, I mean, really, these thoughts happened to ignite a sort of fire (where that of heartburn more commonly [yet not so] pains) that can only be equated to nothing less than one lit by a fuck-you as grand as finding the bane of your (ever damaging and repressed) high school lifetime giving it to your "virgin" girlfriend in the ass (without a condom) in, say, I don´t know, your own self-bought car that you lent her for the night so she could visit her newly detonsiled little brother in the hospital -- no, what´s worse is that these miniature monsters were feasting only upon my blood, and not the others´! NOT FAIR. I have, thus, decided to buy a new pair of shoes.

I tried to locate my school this weekend by making a "dry run," and only learned that, as far as I could tell, it doesn´t even exist. This is exactly what I was afraid of -- already these tasteless pranks on the only Jew in this entire pointy-looking-peopled city (¿or country even?), and he´s not even Jewish.

Anyway, Serena, you´ve doubtlessly gathered, has been a true lamb, but who, I ask you, has ever heard of a small child who dislikes both chocolate and cheese (a question to which some relative replied, "Who´s ever heard of an American who dislikes both ketchup and marshmallows?" -- Touché! Eat shit.)?

 12:16 a. m. »  d

Sheri, I´m working on getting a photo of her sent by one of her uncles. Like I´ve told Lindsay, she bares an uncanny resemblance to a darker Precious Moments figure or a japanime child. I hope you´ll get the chance to see soon.

 4:56 p. m. »  Mr Congeniality

whoa. whoa. whoa

 10:31 p. m. »  elle elle

I have been thinking about this post since I read it two days ago and it makes me want to jump out of my body. Have you been reading too much Woolfe?

 12:04 a. m. »  d

No, Nabakov!

 5:49 a. m. »  dr. j

WAIT. so does this mean you're reading lolita?

i'm telling your mom.

and serena's. mom.