Vomiting rainbows, perhaps, thick as paint. Haha. I'm a weirdo.

Anyways. I am at school, as I am usually. I am slowly dying inside from the wait. SIX WEEKS. Too long. Right now? I'll visit the studio where ABBA recorded. I'll touch the door handles; I'll touch them by proxy. I'll go to Liseberg. I'll give Josefin that secret gift I've been preparing. I'll spend thousands and thousands of kronor on postcards and postage and pretty pens to spill words onto canvasses I'll end to the ones I love. Okay. Hyperbole, much? Thousands and thousands? Postcards can't cost THAT much.

I have made a travel blog! [link] Not much yet, just preparations. Bookmark it! Read it while I'm there!

School is going alright. Anderson still thinks I am a born writer. I highly doubt this, but if I tell her that any more, she tells me off a little for whining. Heehee. Oh well. She showed us old, old pictures from the inside of her desk, back when her name was different, fashion was different, and the clasroom was different. Bizarre.

I think I will get her to sign a model release today, hmhm. I need one if I'm going to keep using it. I mean, it's clearly her, so I think I need one.

uuuugh, bell's going to ring in FIVE. i don't want to go to comm tech! all of a sudden, i'm apparently good at graphic design, according to the teach. I hate graphic design. I think I'm going to be a writer. I think I'll go to school for creative writing, linguistics, and maybe some musical theatre. Something. Be totally random about it all.

Just some random brain vomit of the day

Also: If you know my secret 'resent' for Jo, please don't bring it up here! D: It's a secret that's been REALLY hard to keep for a year and a half!