I usually don't write on fridays.

it's 5:30, I've got a few minutes before I go get earplugs (for sleeping, not a show) and sushi and hit my regular friday night meeting.

I stopped to get my toes done today, a dark macintosh apple red, and had the woman put it on my fingers too. she looked at my hands and said something to the effect of, "no, short nail, no look good dark on short nail." I tipped her seven dollars and asked her to please do it.

I had all this stuff to write down before I started tapping away, and it's all gone flying straight out of my head. snapshots of little kids dancing and why I remember one night tripping at a dead show in philadelphia - and how sometimes it crosses over to a different party but in my mind it's the same room. how my mom's bones are deteriorating, and how it makes me think of something decomposing in a sped-up animation of itself. how this chipped red nailpolish makes me feel like a little girl and a writer all at once. I want to visit a lot of places and I'm in denial of the actual temperature and I don't know if there's a cvs downtown. my legs are cold but I'm leaving my skirt on, these new cheap chunky rings on my fingers make me happy, I love it when kristin updates, and really, I thought I had time to kill but I've probably got to get going.

more to follow - I know I said I'd put I pictures and they're coming. I swear.

~vvb