HELLO FRIENDS, Moments ago while getting up from the chair I am sitting in I lost my balance and did a really great job of smashing my upperlip and teeth into the metal bar on the lovely prison-style bed my college has given me. It hurt alot and I frantically searched for my chapstick, as if that would help. I didn't even notice the blood from my cut lip on my chapstick because it's dr. pepper flavor and colored red. Moments before that I needed to hear slow graffiti. I had to sing along too. For some reason a boy who looks exactly like David Byrne with black hair walked by and told me I had a nice voice. I sincerely hope he was being sarcastic, and I nearly told him so too, but I figured to things could come of that. He would either admit that yes, I suck at singing, or try to convince me that I do not suck at singing. My psyche isn't prepared for either at the moment so after careful consideration and a good while of staring blankly at him, the reply I settled on was a very weakly voiced "thanks." He went away and I shut the door. I think it is important to mention that while this was happening my attire consisted of pajamas with pictures of coffee on them, and slippers that look like pink bunnies. I hope I can avoid these sort of things when I buy the slippers that look like purple monkeys. So my visit to England to see Peter over Christmas break is up in the air again. I was crying on the phone to my mother last night while she told me how important public opinion was and how young I am. This from the woman who was pregnant with me and living with my father at 19. She says it was okay because her and my dad were very much in love and planning on getting married...just like Peter and I. Yet she tells me that I can't do whatever I want because I love him, as though I was going to claim that I own Spain because I love Peter. I know where the summer goes is relaxing me. I have always loved the line about flowering cherries. We have a flowering cherry tree outside my house and I once stood underneath it on purpose on a windy day, but the flowers weren't ready to rain down yet. Kara Jean* +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+