Letters

Dear everyone,
Hair will not be going blue. Dammit.
Hair will be brightly coloured. Promise of blue hair.

My brother's injury report cracks me up. His only injury was an imprint of his sweater on his elbow. ...The car fared less well, and the window was broken.

Sorry for leaving in the middle of conversations lately.

Love, peace and stripy socks.
Me

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Dear self,
Work. WORK. WOOOORK.
That room isn't going to clean itself, the costume won't make itself and the coursework won't write itself.

stfukthxbai
Me.

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Dear computer
Stop making noises.
Me.

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Dear me (again)
Stop turning me into a mindless fangirl, and stop giving me new cosplay ideas. I may cosplay Jen of ambigous gender, personality and identity. But not on Saturday.
Bye.

Teh dorku speaks.

Yay for non-lucidity.

My hair is too short and dark red/brown. ...I don't hate it. I don't like it all that much either.

The interview... let's just say I don't think I have a job.

Am muchly tired.