add: Feb. 02, 2003 (7:55 pm)

today looked like trips to baltimore. forty miles an hour. the sun in my eyes. the color palette and six-twelves. the cake we baked was bad. i was nervous or somehing, i kept laughing. i was nervous, or something. you called shot gun. then he did. you two fought over sitting next to me. or you know, just something we get used to wanting. i don't care about it.

yesterday was dreary. the ground was wet and i kept dropping stuff on it. my papers are crinkled now. those cookies were pretty good, though. we spoke on the telephone when i was supposed to be doing my history reading. i'm thinking of an operation: cliff clavin song now.

i probably caught his germs again. we don't kiss but he coughs and sneezes. sweet, i know.

i'm beginning to see you in four-d. (vonnegut reference, of corse.)

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