really weird; i 'found' this website a few hours that had many jd salinger short stories on it. anand, remember our project? welll then. so there they are and i read some of them and the feeling of hard-working ethic that woke me up is all gone, gone, gone. and now i am writing like the seven year old seymour glass, alas. maybe i'm not. but in reaction to the manifold new variables and constraints that entered my life this past week i cut my hair last night really quickly, so that it is more eight year old-joanne. the other time i cut my hair it was for more nineteen year old-joanne. i...don't know about that.

last night i also tried to make potato prints for PCMS invites and messed up, and my hands quinkly blue-black. if only for some better cause than a completely failed round of artism. and A on my architecture paper which merited a B- because i'm in the pilot program which merits an "excellent effort" but an "unsatisfactory performance", and which i'm going to drop this year i think. my heart just swoops to smash itself on earth thinking of such a weighty move but there it is. and...things just bruise me easily because i bruise things easily. take my backpack. take my camera. take my coat. take it all, and then i can take it all. er?

weezer tonight am SO not going. i say it like i have a choice. and last night we also tried to make orange juice for the sick jia but no juicer. so blender --> unsanitary orange puree. which was dubious even for the healthy.