wonderful fair with swings and all

merkley, everyone who visits raymiland loves your book.

lamb poutine at mitzi’s sister. shall be haunting that scene quite a bit. our waiter was pretty great. i had to pay debit and was waterfall sorrying about it (we hate debit at our work i don’t know why exactly though) and he’s like it’s ok not a problem then i said i’m a chronic apologizer he said to try not apologizing for a day. i wonder why i do that. insecurity probably. definitely.

i have missed my friends dearly.

roots appointment for the weekend awwright.

flattering moments in time.

meet melodie. more importantly, meet melodie’s amazing shirt.

box of (johnny) cash nite and we all fell in love. drummer plays on a massive box. there is no actual box of money, slightly misleading. i stared holes through the singer’s head and pretended i was him in mine.

lucas makes encouraging little yip yip noises when he’s enjoying the music he hears.

the chick at poor john’s asked if melodie and i were sisters. do you see it?

yesterday i was a greasy mess instead of just a mess. i’m writing a guide to being a dirtbag princess. basically, shower never. melodie looks super fierce. she used to model. i asked her for some posing tips and she said that she was just about to ask me the same thing.

dropped in on narwhal to try and bump into kristin. it’s always so awkward inquiring about her or steve to their employees. hi is kristin here? no? uh ok um, cool. socially awkwardly insane.

gorgeous day for a stroll ‘cross the city. a little too keener on the no-toque wearing though (have a massive ear/headache now). it didn’t mesh with my bun head. or my pink heart glasses. last nite fluorescent orange seemed like a good idea.

lured into a shoe store by its 50% off sign. i need work shoes. they didn’t have my size in these. SIGHZE.

felt totally bananas wearing lolita shades in there. necessary gross eye coverage.

don’t even ask me the name i haven’t a clue.

a friendship was made only to be hastily severed. i got some mocassins. size 9. i’m a size 8. bought insoles. final sale. i have regrets a little. the shoes match my purse way too much plus every single chick in the city owns them already.

so pretentious i love it.

knees are killing from slamming the pavement. went to the pharmacy to exchange some way too orange makeup and i forgot my shoes on the counter, had to go back. then some guy on my street tried to pick me up. he was a little too sketchy for my liking. asked if i was named brinn. um nice made up name. he lives a few houses up can’t wait to not run into him again soon.