worn to a shadow

growing up like young peter pan.

no more drinking for this rodeo star. even after swearing round and round to myself that i would comport myself well this weekend, i missed anne hathaway betraying emily blunt in the devil wears prada because i was puking in the garbage can outside the theatre. and when i could manage, in the ladies' room toilet. gross and unladylike, i know. not to mention, the waking up drunk in a den of slack. oh wait, did i say slack? i meant weed and blackberries.

but, okay. london and paris in september. september is the new january, and two years out of college is the new 30. living for fashion magazines, pin-straight hair, muscle death from my personal trainer, peace of mind from my facialist, scones with clotted cream and jam, insomnia, unconscious flirtation...and my membership in the leisure class.

does jt's new "sexyback" song not totally evoke, in a fun troglodyte way, "monster mash"?

would really love to bake these brownies, already, and send my care package to my now 3rd graders in korea. would so love that. mmmmmhm.