Wednesday, September 22, 2010


Last night, I dreamt of my own death. OK, I'm exaggerating, I didn't die, but I got shot. My stepdad was lecturing me about how I should act around people, and was saying "it doesn't matter how much people like you when they first meet you, because in five years time, you know they all end up hating you," (ouch) and then this guy in the room pulls a gun out of a bag, and shoots me on the abdomen. Don't worry, it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would.

This has absolutely nothing to do with what I wore today. It's a really nice day out, and I've been wanting to wear my Urban Outfitters shorts for a while. And I haven't worn heels in a long time, so I thought it why not do it today, when I, uhh, have two classes, and I have to run around to make it to my second class, literally? Not the smartest idea...



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