I wear all grey and act sad.

I nearly tore my ear apart in hoop earrings tonight, reminding me of girlfights and the resulting tufts of weave that would be scattered in the lunchroom like a territory marker.

I only fought with my sister, but she fought a girl in 7th grade out behind the school. She and this girl, Dawn, used to want to be the Bangles--Emily was Vicki, and this girl was Susanna, though the girl was pretty much a skank ass ho and really had no hope of ever looking much better than Jar-Jar Binks, quite frankly. (I always got to be Debbie.) Dawn jumped Emily after some long standing feud over 9th grade heartthrob Jay Delmontt, and began ripping at her hair and scratching at her face. Slappy hands like in the movies. Meanwhile Emily didn't know that was the way she should be fighting. She is close-fisted punching this girl in the nose, because that's what our father taught us to do if anyone ever messed with us.

I'm tired, and fast becoming my parents. Every day at work I fall into these rages that I can barely keep down. They lift about 10 minutes later on the ride home. I do not understand this, they feel completely irrational, yet completely rational at the time I am feeling them. Hey Kate, quit your fucking job. Get the fuck away. I think this is a mind warning. I'm sorry if no one understands why I haven't yet, or why I can't appreciate the good money and good benefits. I am a brat.

I am off once I get my license and car. I am also waiting for plastic surgery (I am replacing my face with the face of Kenny Loggins). I have a fear of being without health insurance. It is irrational. I am healthy.

Also, I hate that the world changes while I am not changing at all!!!!

At least there is Ghost World coming out soon. Oh Ghost World, you remind me of so many train trips back from the city in high school, sitting next to irate drunken men, listening to the Pixies and the Connells, and reading alternative comics. I just missed Gen-X slacking and am sandwiched against spunky Gen-Y! I have no generational identity. My peers in high school wore those little brown Bass suede shoes.

Anyway. How can I improve my conversational charm? I am dull. All hints and tips appreciated in my guestbook (click the little man enjoying his hooka!).

PS: I want to be more funny.