The Realm

A Place Where Cheese Is Queen

My Photo
Location: San Francisco, CA

I'm fun.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Muffin Man

It's a BOY!!

I feel like one of those ladies who find out prior to giving birth what the sex of their baby is through the use of ultrasound technology ... then get a big surprise on baby's birthday.

His name is Mr. Carlos Muffin. He is the spazziest kitty cat in the whole world. He loves to play with leaves and corks as well as toys from Petco.

This is a picture of Carlos that I took while we were driving home from his birthplace in Seattle. As you can see he is fast asleep and is dreaming about being a bunny. aw. berschnorble!

Cynthia and I are safely returned to San Francisco after an all night drive. Carlos handled it ... Noodle not so much. But we're all safely home - albeit with items covered in Noodle pee ... but there you go.

To celebrate, we're eating pizza.


Friday, August 18, 2006


Yes indeed. A veritable PUSHOVER!

Sorry. This sounds like its going to be juicy story.

Guess again.

Instead, its just more evidence that while I am tough and mean and cold cold cold on the outside, inside I'm a squishy little melted marshmallow.

I was walking to Benefit to get my eyebrows shaped when suddenly, I'm accosted by a random guy in a "Children International" polo shirt and a clipboard.

No Kyle. HELL NO! You aren't getting me to throw down! I don't care how cute and young you are, how muscular your forearms as you wield your literature, how golden your hair, how bright blue and sparkly your eyes as you knock me over the head with the fact that kids all over the world don't have access to clean water or toilets!

Well duh. I told him I was "tapped out." (hah but he didn't think it was funny) I told him I already give my money to the care of kittens and Greenpeace. He wasn't buying it. I told him I was late to my eyebrow appointment. He challenged me to cancel it, and give the money to the kids. I tried to get away, but his zeal conquered my resolve ... and ... yes.

So now I am the sponsor of a three year old kid in India named Anisur.

I have to say, he's an adorable little guy. In his fact sheet, it says he likes toys and cars and he's good at drawing. He also helps his mom around the house.


So I get to send him 18 dollars per month and that will pay for his medical expenses, his educational expenses when he goes to school, clothes, and some food.

I was IRRITATED that I gave in to ol' Kyle's smooth little spiel (it DID help that he was a hottie) but I am over it now. Because I went on to my eyebrow appointment and about five minutes later, I was handing over 18 dollars to the eyebrow lady ... THE EXACT AMOUNT Anisur is getting from me, which, if it is spent as the charity promises ... really COULD make a difference in his life. The family information says Anisur's dad, who is a mechanic, takes home 35 dollars a month. Meantime, the charity's literature says it spends eighty percent of what's given by sponsors directly on the children -- which means my money represents about a 33 percent jump in the family income that is only spent on the child.

I am so, so good at validation. YES! it's a skill.

I also got a little bit excited when big talker Kyle told me I could send Anisur letters and packages, until I realized. Duh, I don't speak OR write Bengali. Oh well. I suppose love will find a way. And I COULD send him pencils and paper and whatnot and maybe he'll become a world famous artist and I WILL HAVE GIVEN HIM HIS START, thus going down in history, much like the patrons of artists such as Michaelangelo and Da Vinci! YES!

Pressure's on, Anisur.

xoxoxo kisses and hugs! plus lots of love to my new little friend.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Fruity Feelings

Here is an artist after my own heart.

It's Saxton Freymann, and according to his website, he's a New York City artist who "creates emotional animals completely out of produce."

You can read more about him and see more of his creations by clicking on that link!!

They are so so cute!! This looks like a dad tomato and a toddler tomato. Maybe they're at a baseball game or something.

Anyway. I was searching for a picture of a cute baby tomato when I came across Mr. Freymann's work.

((by the way, the tee shirt shown has nothing to do with Saxton Freymann's work. However, a serendipitous email from Jelly yesterday contained a link to that shirt, and advised me to purchase one. Only if she does too and we wear them to work on the same day. In different colors, of course. )

ANYWAY. The reason I wanted a baby tomato pic is because I have my very own baby tomato sitting at my desk this week. He's green, not red and is about the size of a small pea. He has a substantial stem and is quite cute. My friend gave him to me after she found him hiding inside her little package of cherry tomatoes. I am quite attached already and am keeping him safe from an evil co-worker who threatened to squash him.

You know. It's the little things that keep me sane. Or not. I don't know which it is really. It probably IS strange to adopt a pea sized tomato as a pet.

Also, he doesn't DO much. Just sort of wobbles and falls over on his side when I try to place him upright. Also, he's very quiet.


The magazine fairy left me an OK magazine today. Hooray! Now I can catch up on my celebrity cheese.

Thanks MF. Not Mo-Fo but Magazine Fairy.

That's an important distinction.

I have an idea that should make me millions of dollars. I'm still working out the details but when the checks start rolling in, there will be minicows for all.

xoxoxo kisses!!

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

A Happy Find

Today I put on my denim jacket and got a nice surprise!!

I haven't worn it for awhile and when I reached into the pocket, I found seven dollars!!


It was the perfect day to find it, because I didn't have any cash lying around the house with which to buy coffee. And since I have to go to Starbucks now, it costs two dollars!

wah. Anyways. TODAY I could buy three cups of coffee, if I wanted.

Don't you LOVE when that happens?

I have posted a picture from here for your pleasure. I, of course, got it from my favorite website. (cute overload, natch).

Is there anything that says spring more clearly than a polka dotted baby pig snorfing a daffodil? If there is, I can't think of it.

Too bad it is August -- but I couldn't resist.

Only ONE WEEK until the new kitten is MINE!! I should just get it over with and name her Squishy.

That's right. One week from today, I will go to Seattle with Nicole and get my new baby.

oh the ber snorglishiousness!!! geh geh geh geh geh geh!!!

Today I have a music lesson. My new teacher is nice but I'm still not big on practicing.

WHY DO I SUCK SO MUCH? that seems to be the question of the month. It is unanswerable.

But, I must say, confusion, pain and lethargy have reigned these dog days.

Thank goodness my holiday is coming. Then, September will begin and I'll have a whole new chance to start up some season of good habit. You know. Like frugality or fitness. Or whatever.

love and kisses plus lots of snorty snorgles!


Friday, August 11, 2006

A Good Day

Today was better than yesterday!

My friend V-Rab brought me two tupperware containers full of my favorite of her creations!

It is the BREAD SALAD!

yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum

There's enough to last all weekend.

V-Rab rules. I can see why the fairy decided to make her Real.

This is Noodle and my final weekend here at home without the future kitty!

New name consideration: Strudel (rhymes with NOODLE!) That's Cynthia's idea. It's on the list!

Next week at this time I will have worked my final day for TEN WHOLE DAYS. We're going to go to Portland, visit the peeps, and get our friend. woo HOO.

I still have a week of hell to slog through but it should go quickly enough ... i hope.

I am a sad little cheese lately and I just wanted to say thanks for all your support - salads, hugs, and baby animal pictures really help.

love to all peeps

xoxoxo kisses and snorgles

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Debris Pile

Remember the Velveteen Rabbit?

It's the story of a boy who gets a Velveteen Rabbit for a present and loves it so much that its fur wears off and its eyes fall out and it Doesn't Matter because it's what's INSIDE that counts.

Velveeteen Rabbit has a friend among the boy's toys named Skin Horse, a faithful companion of the boy's ... perhaps not as well loved by the boy, but an important part of the toy menagerie, none the less.

Then the boy gets scarlet fever and the rabbit must be burned because he is full of germs.

It ends happily, with the rabbit being turned real by a fairy and set free to have an even better life as a bunny among bunnies.

In one area of my life, there's a version of the Velveeteen Rabbit story being played out. In this story, I take the role of Skin Horse.

So I have a new nickname. It is Skin-Ho. My friend, who plays the role of Velveeteen Rabbit, is V-Rab.

Sometimes, telling a story about painful realities can make them easier to bear.

The good thing is, in the story, Velveteen Rabbit goes on to bigger and better things.

The bad thing is, Skin Horse remains on the boy's shelf, forgotten and alone.

I hope that is not a metaphor for what's in store.

(well, I hope my friend is as happy as Velveteen Rabbit becomes, but I also hope that as Skin Horse, I can move on from what happened in the story.)

xoxoxo love from Skin Ho ...

All's Well That Ends Well ....

When they were coming up with the great literary themes, one was somehow forgotten.

I speak, of course, of Man Versus Laundromat.

As you may remember, I had an Adventure in Landromatting last Friday from which I emerged the decisive LOSER.

I took up the gauntlet again yesterday afternoon, in hopes of killing the beast.

Here is my timeless tale ....

So I got home from work and looked at my laundry, still packed up in its going out bags and decided I must do this now, or all will be lost.

On Saturday, the day after disaster, I had gone to the previously padlocked laundromat and gotten change from its (working!!) change machine. So I had six dollars worth of quarters to work with, plus about $3.50 plucked from my change basket.

AND! I had a five and two ones for back up.

So ... ever cautious, I ventured out with just one load, to make sure everything was copacetic. It seemed so ... and I went back, with two HUGE loads.

I loaded up the machines, and started up the washers. My clothes chugged wetly, merrily, shedding their soil within horizontal cylinders. I breathed in the anticipation of fresh sheets, fluffy towels and warm snuggly pajamas.

But wait! I had washed so many clothes, I needed MORE QUARTERS, so that they could dry properly.

No worries, I thought. Here's a five dollar bill in my pocket. There's the change machine, the one I had used successfully on Saturday, on the wall. I approached, and held out my bill like an offering. The machine sucked it up .... hungrily ... greedily.

And failed to dispense the damn quarters. Gah!! WHY?? WHY am i being punished??

There's nothing to do but to go to three corner stores until I found one that would make change for me. The man behind the counter gave me four dollars worth of quarters and charged me fifty cents for the privilege. But I had nowhere else to turn! As you may remember, every laundromat's change machine within a three block radius was refusing to dispense change.

I was NOT defeated. I had quarters, even though my hoard was sadly depleted, and I must make every quarter now in my hand COUNT.

Back to the seventh circle of hell, I loaded my clothes in giant dryers. I then went home to seek solace in the form of Noodle.

But, my work was not yet done. I still had to remove my clean laundry from the dryers, fold it, and lug it home. Victory was within my grasp!!

So, I trudged back to the laundromat. The first dryer: done. Most articles were dry. Except one bathroom rug. I went to throw that into the other dryer, which was still running.

That's when I discovered the HEAT in the running dryer wasn't working!!

I almost threw in the towel (heh) at that point. My clothes were damp, but what did I care? Then I tried to imagine dragging damp clothes home ... and realized: that would signal failure. It was NOT an option.

So, again: I returned home. I scraped the bottom of every purse I own and came up with five quarters. Hopefully enough to put these articles in a dryer that works.

I returned and started up a new dryer. This time, I intended to remain on site to make sure I got my 35 minutes worth of hot air.

That's when a lady slipped in. She puttered around a minute ... then went into a locked back room. I realize ... this lady WORKS here!

I explained what happened with the change machine and she handed me five dollars worth of quarters!

At that moment, I realized the Universe had taken an active role.

It saw that I needed that money, so turned the heat off in one of the dryers I was using, to ensure that I'd be on the premises when the lady came in! Isn't that neat? (sure, I wasted two dollars on an hour's worth of cold air, but the Universe's work, is, by design ... somewhat circular.

Yay! Universe!!

From now on, after I'm done wearing something, I'm throwing it away.

xoxoxo kisses!

Monday, August 07, 2006

Sleepy Sunday

I am a horrible person.

I was forced to skip a birthday party yesterday after staying UP ALL NIGHT on Saturday night.

But it was worth it!! I was super fun shooting the cheese with three of my favorite peeps! And an all day nap on a Sunday is a happy treat!

Have you ever been to a party with a panini bar? I have, and let me tell you, I can't think of better party food than "make your own" customized pressed sandwiches!! PLUS!! There were several kinds of chicken wings, AND the world's best artichoke dip, as well as a big smooshy cake and delicious COOKIES!! I couldn't ask for anything more.

Well, I wouldn't have minded a "make your own pizza" station. Alas, no. But you can't have everything -- what would be left for which to strive?

Would you like to hear a pissy rant?

I am forever listing the things I love. That's because I am trying to be a sunshiny fresh flower all the time.

That's the goal. Unfortunately, I am subject to an anger that burns hot in my belly.

Here are the not so obvious things that PISS ME OFF (I'm not listing the obvious things, such as certain elected officials.)

1. Starbucks. F.Y.

2. Commercials for toe fungus medicine that feature evil yellow creatures. Also, commercials for toilet paper featuring bears.

3. Use of the word "hipster" in any form. Shut up.

4. Tacquerias that put peas in their rice. eeugh.

5. Drivers who use the bike lane as a parking lane.

6. People who pass off others' ideas or work as their own.

7. Men who make hissing noises or catcall at women on the street. Assholes.

8. Negative attitudes.*

9. Know it alls who don't really know jack.

10. People who think any woman who weighs more than 110 pounds is fat.

* you may think this is a dig at myself. I promise! I'm not negative. Everyone has personal pet peeves. I'm just writing mine down to share.

See above for bunnies in a barbie car. They're there to detract from the pissiness of it all.

xoxoxo until later!! love and kisses too.

Friday, August 04, 2006

A World Gone MAD

I had the funkiest day ever!

It's Friday night and I am not leaving my apartment again on this day because I can't be sure what might happen next.

It all started when my alarm clock this morning so rudely interrupted my slumber.

That's nothing unusual. But since I pushed the snooze button about 283 times, I didn't have much time to get ready and I had to drive my car to work.

Then I discovered I was out of cigarettes! One cannot partake of the breakfast of champions (coffee and cigarette, der) without half the equation.

No worries, I thought. I'll just stop by a gas station on my way to work.

HAH! The attendants at the first two were all tucked up in sleeping bags behind the cash registers, snoozing comfortably. I hadn't the heart to wake them.

At the third, the guy was awake, but completely OUT of smokes. He didn't even have cigars.

So, okay. I can deal. My quest was a failure. But I comforted myself by imagining the hot cup of coffee I was sure was in my fairly immediate future.

NOT SO FAST! I've had to go to Starbucks all this week because Marlin the coffee guy has mysteriously disappeared. Which sucks in itself because you know. STARBUCKS. But when you're jonesing for coffee, who the hell REALLY has time for principles? I'm sure some people do, but I don't.

So, I amble on down. The door is locked. Finally the guy arranging the pastries grudgingly comes to the door and says hey sorry, we're not ready yet. Come back in 15 minutes.

No can do, I say. It's 5:40 in the morning and I GOT SHIT TO DO!!

YOUR SIGN SAYS YOU'RE OPEN AT 5:30! You are located in a two block vicinity of at least three 24 hour operations. Is it not reasonable to open when you say you will with coffee brewed for your early arrivals?


The rest of the day passed without incident.

However, when I woke up from my afternoon nap, ready to begin my new life as an official partyer, I checked my email and found that a bill that usually falls due AFTER the 15th of the month must be paid by August 14th. FOILED!! How can I party without my carefully hoarded beer money?

So, okay. I do have ten dollars in the form of two five dollar bills. I decided that if I can't go out and have fun tonight, at least I can be productive. I know! I'll do laundry!

I packed up ten dollars worth of soiled clothing and my throw rugs and headed to my laundromat, chose the machines with the least amount of detritus from previous users and got ready to rock.

After loading everything up, I discovered that the change machine isn't making change today.

No worries. There's another laundromat a block away. I'll go use theirs.

Except, when I got there, the door was padlocked shut.

Okay. I know of another laundromat about two blocks away. So I went there. This one has a lady who works on the premises, so I had to be sly.

Guess what! That machine refused by Lincolns as well. WHAT THE HELL? They weren't crumply or damp. They're perfectly unwrinkled, fairly fresh legal tender.

I was broken. Betrayed by the gods of low level commerce. I had to go BACK to the first laundromat, take my dirty clothes OUT of the machines, and slink home.

I think life would be immeasurably improved if I had my own personal washing machine. I'd rather have that than almost ANYTHING.

However!! there was ONE good thing that came out of this! As you know, I've been doing battle in fits and starts with the laundromat gauntlet now for months.

Also, the laundromat guarded by this group of assholes smells disturbingly of urine. It's not pleasant. Plus the 46 pound drunk woman is always spilling beer everywhere.

But the third laundromat I went to in my failed change hunt was fresh and clean. And blessedly free of loitering men who think that it is okay to hiss at female passerby.

So even though it will be a pain in my ASS to lug my clothes there in the future, I am going to do it.

If those fuckers follow me again, I will have to open up a can of whoop ass on them. Because that's how I roll.

xoxoxo until LATER!! kisses!

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Good Times

Last night the Bay Area welcomed the long lost Lolita back into our loving fold by producing a little earthquake.

Lo had just walked into my house and gotten settled with a cup of coffee at my kitchen table when the shaking began.

It was like the planet was saying ... hey! Lolita! glad to see you!

And I am glad to see her as well.

So we ended up staying in San Francisco ... where Lo, Nadia and I were joined by bonus guest Lexi! We went to dinner at Dosa - (south Indian) - where Lexi fell off her chair laughing. Literally.

She was okay but a bit upset that her emergency malt beverage had rolled out of her purse and across the floor.

We had to leave the restaurant after that because we were laughing so hard we were crying.

Luckily we'd finished our dinners. The staff did NOT appear pleased.

I haven't been part of such a public spectacle since I was 14 years old and arrived at a local Baskin Robbins to learn that our high school heartthrob was dealing up the scoops.

Then we went to Amnesia where they had an open mike jazz thing. It was PACKED! In fact, what was everybody and their dog doing out last night?

Is Wednesday the new Thursday?

Anyway. I am turning over a new leaf. I am once again an official partyer.

Well. I'll have to ease back into it. But no longer will I turn down weeknight invitations out of hand.

The world is my oyster!! I must grab it while it's fresh for the taking -- dig out the pearls -- and let the flesh slide effortlessly down my throat!

Actually, oysters are on my list of top five most hated foods.

Maybe the world could be my grape or something.

The other Bad Foods: hardboiled eggs, peas, lima beans and marzipan.

I would put liver but that's not really a food. *shudder*

Guess what? One of my favorite kids sent me a "Squirt" doll from "Finding Nemo."

He and Comfort Hippo are partying right now on my desk.

Love! xoxoxo

Wednesday, August 02, 2006


How would you respond if your co-worker said to you ... apropos of nothing ...

"Hey, I have bad news. My doctor says I have a fat pussy."

I know. Double take + unwanted mental image!

As it turns out, it wasn't such a shocking revelation after all ... my co worker DOES in fact have a "fat pussy" ... it's her new little kitten-cat who is a bit chubbier than he should be at this stage.

The doctor was her VET.

Still. My God.

It kind of reminds me of the French Revolution.

I mean, if I were in France during the height of Sans-culottes movement, the first time I heard that term used for the revolutionaries, I might have thought ... what? Crowds of political activists naked from the waist down?

Well. That would be a sight. As it turns out, it is a somewhat deceptive term for those dudes, who actually wore trousers -- just NOT culottes. So I suppose if I was living in France in late 18th century on, I'd understand the meaning instinctively and it wouldn't be deceptive at all.

Context really IS everything, no?

Fat pussy, you have to admit, is kind of a fun phrase.

Good thing culottes are kind of loose fitting.

Just kidding.


God I'm a geek.

Okay, moving right along.

Tonight I am going to Oakland to visit with Nadia and maybe ... MAYBE ... the elusive Lolita.

We are having dinner and drinks and I will utilize BART and my bike to reach my destination. So not only am I a friend to the environment, I can have as many beers as I like. YES!!

I wish all of Noodle's friends could have seen her last night.

Tex was over and Noodle REALLY likes her. So much so that Noodle curled up right beside her and gently placed her little paw on Tex's hand, then started snoozing. Poor Tex had to hold her hand still for quite awhile. I don't think she minded though.

You can always tell the good people if your pets like them.

In fact, Messy is the only domesticated animal I know of for whom that measure was not reliable.

She actually liked my old crazy landlord aka the landcrotch.

Ah Messy. A truly fat pussy. You are missed.

xoxo*** -- kisses, hugs and snorgles!

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

End of Youth/BOY I'm glad I'm not a teenager!!

There are about a MILLION reasons that I'm glad I'm a grownup now.

Today's teenagers have it way hard. (although the clothes ARE cuter now...hmm)

Wait! no. I'm still glad I'm a forty year old. Life seems extremely stressful for kids these days.

For instance ... college admittance.

Shit, back in the day, all you needed was an SAT score and a pulse to get into a state school. From what I hear now ... it ain't so easy. And it was reasonably priced back then. Can you imagine paying $87 dollars per month for rent, or $470 per term for tuition? I thought not. Although, to be fair, 87 big ones got you a room in a haunted flea infested house with linoleum floors throughout, dirt tunnels in the basement leading GOD KNOWS WHERE, temporary walls constructed of sheetrock and random holes allowing baby kittens to come in and out at will.

Still! party! Twenty hours a week in the M and F handbag section and I was sorted for rent, noodle and cheese money, Egg food and the occasional beer!

In addition, when I left the Virginia -Tutu house behind (so named for the 138 year old woman who owned it and her horrible dog) and finally found the right school, it turns out you DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TO TAKE MATH TO GET A B-A DEGREE!! you got to choose between math and a language. Say what you will about the University of Oregon, it HONORED people like me. go DUCKS!

I think the requirements are a bit stiffer now.

But I got to take classes such as the following:

Shakespeare until it was coming out my ears.
Novels classes. From every conceivable time period - British and American. Novels you would read for pleasure anyway. Sure, writing the papers sucked. But still. Rock the fuck on.
Chaucer - the big English major requirement. The textbook and class was in Olde English. That went over well.
Dylan and Others. The late Dr. Strange taught this class. We studied the lyrics of Woody and Arlo Guthrie, Robert Johnson, Jim Morrison and of course BOB DYLAN. The best part of this class was studying frantically for the final with my friend Laila. It turns out she lived in a home once owned by Ken Kesey and had found an old phone book of Kesey's tucked away somewhere(I KNOW! what are the odds?) with guess who's number in it? yes. the big B's. We debated. Should we call him? So Bob ... tell us - what the hell are you talking about? We decided against it. But I wrote in my final about that and made the prof so happy he gave me extra credit. Laila did NOT turn the book over, so missed out.
I also got to take a folklore class that allowed me to interview my grandmother about her life and art for my term project. Another folklore class was dedicated to the study of urban myths. It was like going to camp.

Now, that was back in the late '80's. I can't call these Mickey Mouse classes, exactly, because they were challenging. And it DID suck to have to write my papers on a manual typewriter.

But if I were in college now, I don't know if I'd feel free to choose the meandering path through me education that I did then. First of all, it costs so much now, I would have hated to ask the rents to pay for a fifth year, like I ended up doing back then. Also, it's possible that I might be convinced now that English Literature isn't the most lucrative major to choose. I might have bowed down to the man and taken computer, economics and marketing classes rather than acting and dance. Because the pressure on the kids today to get out and get a good job and not spend time finding themselves seems to be a lot stronger now than I remember it being.

I don't think I could handle it.

So why am I talking about this today? Well. It's a milestone ... the 25th anniversary of MTV, which really, when I think about it, provided the soundtrack of my youth. I was either watching MTV or was listening to some record album that I had bought because I saw the artists on MTV.

Here's one writer's take on the changes wrought over at Music Television.

He says it much better than I could. Also, for that article, please note. He actually had to watch MTV. I can't afford full cable so I don't even get MTV, but it sounds like I'm not missing anything I want to see. Don't get me wrong. I watched every episode of the Real World up til the Hawaii season. But everything else. yuck.

In 1982, however -- It was the SHIT. The first time I saw MTV, I was with Nicole at a weekend babysitting gig she had. The house had cable and we sat there and watched videos ALL WEEKEND LONG.

The only other thing I remember is that house had a bright red heart shaped bathtub built for two.

Anyway so we finally got cable in my neighborhood the following summer and I ended up spending many a happy night up til five, usually accompanied by my brother and at least one of my girlfriends waiting... waiting ... waiting through endless Asia and Ratt videos for the elusive Adam and the Ants (me) Duran Duran (Cindy) or Bow Wow Wow (my bro) video. Ah. Good times.

In other areas ... I never would have been able to cultivate my addiction to tobacco if I were a kid today. No ... back in the day, you could buy clove cigarettes at the mall's tobacco shop and even at the 7-11 with nary a carding.

Plus, there weren't all those rules about having an adult in the car if you were a teenaged driver.

Random thought: I wonder what I'll reminisce about when I'm 80.

If you are a parent and are reading this, be nice to your kids. They have it much harder than we ever did.

(although a cell phone when i was 17 would have REALLY come in handy.)

xoxo love! kisses!