Beautiful, Dirty, Rich

So, my lovelies. How´s life?

I´m up to my eyeballs in scraps of notes from various different classes I can´t identify. Why did I think this method would be easier? I see a long night of organizing ahead of me...Have been postphoning this moment for a few weeks now. But, Becca, strap on a pair. They are only notes, they don´t bite. Right?

Am quite worried about the new Lady Gaga obssession I am developing (can´t believe I´m publishing this). If you drop by, most likely I´ll be dancing around one room or another in my house, with an apron on, singing Paparazzi like my whole life depends on it. Sad. I know. I will go bright red, and pretend I´m listening to a meddley of songs, and that one came on by pure chance! Don´t take me seriously, thought.

Resisting the urge to dress up, strap on my high heels, and go out on the razzle tomorrow. School Prom. Must resist. Will not have a good time. Alternate plan is stay home with all food from pantry, and watch TV through the night, whilst texting until my fingers drop off. Sound like lots more fun. And way more confortable.

One more week of this cosmopolitan life, and it´s back to the farm for one blissful (not) week of holidays. Easter is such a pointless holiday (in a totally non offensive tone).

Working hard towards a nice comfy relationship with someone who is not even one year older than me. I hardly recognise myself. Change is good, isn´t that what they say? Expanding horizons every single day, and trying to cope with someone who has never had a real gf before! Strange, but very rewarding.

Anyho, must dash. My notes are burning a hole in my desk. Need to return to my nice, organizes, safe paradise. Where everything matches, and flowers grow against the side walks. I´m not normal. Not even close.

Ah, one more thing: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nBDbUVXXp-U Pure nonsense, but makes my insides wobble. In a decidedly good way.

Over and out.