Lately, I've been blogging only when I have something to say and show, not just show. Maybe show and tell would have worked better, since that's actually a phrase. Right now, the only thing I can think of to tell is the tragic tale of my first real "booty call," which, while I am way too open about my personal life on this blog, is probably a story best saved for another day. Or never. You know, whichever. Aside from that, the only thing that I've been sort of obsessing over is my Write Four Lines a Night Because Kurt Vonnegut Told You To Challenge. That was long winded. I mentioned it a few posts ago, that I was trying to write four lines of poetry every night, good or bad or really really bad, just to keep myself writing. There have been plenty of sleepy nights where I enter my room and the light's already out, and I'd rather go straight to bed, but instead I work for a few minutes by the glow of the computer screen. I've done it for two weeks now, and have mostly written really weird things, but it still feels so nice to be creating a very little something every night.
In other news, I appear to be channeling a scatter-brained art teacher from the 90's with this outfit. And I need to change my hair again. I tell you, I would chop it all off if I didn't think my face would be 100% nose without some hair to counterbalance it.