Sinister: How Can I Miss You If You Won't Go Away?

[Laura Llew]

As Mr. Ned Steadman - my chemistry teacher in high school - used to say, 
"It's not what you say it's how you say it." Of course, he also used to say, 
"There's no such thing as a stupid question except for the one that isn't 
asked" until I came along. After that it was:
Me: Can I ask a dumb question?
Mr. Steadman: Like nobody else, Laura. Like no one else...

I value sincerity and integrity (which is the real reason I like when boys 
call me beautiful. I appreciate honesty.) so much more than someone's taste 
in music or literature or flavor of hot chocolate that I'm having trouble 
following this Indier than Thou thread. Personally, I've found the best 
thing is to find someone who doesn't like music that much. That way they 
don't really care what you play on roadtrips as long as it doesn't give them 
a headache. Oh sure you don't have anyone to trade cds with but that's what 
Transatlantic Mix Tape Challenges are for! Plus, I thought the cool thing in 
Indieville these days was self depreciating humor and insecurity. Not that I 
would know about that kind of thing since I'm rather daft. If you stand me, 
you can hear the ocean.

My fellow (and adored) southerner, Matthew Henderson, keeps speaking my 
heart. His subject line of "Life in a Southern Town" got me to thinking 
(scary prospect I know) about my own little town here. When I was talking to 
an old co-worker about what she was up to these days she told me she was 
starting Cosmetology School soon and said that perhaps she'd be able to cut 
my hair someday. I discovered I indeed live in one of those warped quirky 
southern towns when I realized that I was thinking, "I had to testify as to 
your character after you ran a high school teacher over and dragged them 
halfway up Pendleton street on the hood of your car AS IF I'm going to let 
you near my head with anything sharp."

Of course, I need to take some kind of solace in my place in life now that 
I've realized that I'm an abomination in the sight of Will Porter. It's a 
tragedy indeed. Well, Madeleine, I don't know about your foray into the 
world of Librarianism and a constant case of the sniffles. However, I have a 
suggestion of utter clutzyness if you were to decide to become a bookshop 
girl instead. I didn't find any problem adjusting to this at all as I 
believe the key is making an utter fool of yourself. The other day I was 
trying to walk in between the small space between the service counter while 
carrying a rather large and unweildy box. I was trying to figure out how to 
fit both of us through while trying different approaches but to no avail. I 
kept almost knocking things off - that's when I heard someone chuckling. I 
looked up to find a guy my age staring at me just LAUGHING as I had kept 
trying and retrying to fit though... He was waiting to buy a book so I set 
my box down and started to ring him up when my glasses which had somehow 
found their way pushed up on top of my head (instead of perched on my nose) 
started to tilt. So, I decided to take them off when they became tangled in 
my hair. Oh dear. So, I turned around - while blushing furiously - trying to 
get my glasses back from the grasps of my curls much to the amusement of 
this boy. He said something sympathetic like, "I hate it when that happens" 
which caused me to stare at his head which was very commpletly devoid of 
hair. INDEED - I'm sure that happens to baldy all the time!  Yes, so get 
used to being laughed at and never being good enough for boys named Will. 
Somehow rejection hasn't been hard to acclimate myself to either.

Of course, today I'm wearing my Myrna Minkhoff shirt and I feel 
Minxalicious.

watch out boys*,
Laura
"meeting all dem der Laura Llew needs since 1977"

*Mmm, that means that Billzebub & Jimmy G & Dreamy Breamy should all be 
waiting for me to harass them quite shortly. Muwahahaha.

PS - I'm planning to make a trip up north in October. Sexpot Sauer - now 
that I know you have a feather bed up there at NYU expect to find me at some 
point sinking into it.

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