When you kissed my lips with my mouth so full of questions

When I said I was terrified of being entered into a beauty pageant without a tangible talent, I wasn't lying.

So I bought a harmonica. As of this evening I can successfully play "Merrily We Roll Along," "Hot Crossed Buns," "Lullaby," and pieces of "Jingle Bells." Single notes will be the death of me.

There are plenty of things I want to write about, but I'm too lazy to actually construct ideas and string them together. Besides, I have flu-like symptoms and for the past 48 hours I've been sleeping on a waterbed and reading Breakfast of Champions while watching Judge Joe Brown.

Speaking of Breakfast of Champions, I'm disappointed. I enjoyed reading Slaughterhouse Five to a degree I never thought possible, but Champions focuses a lot on sex and penises and "wild beavers" to the point where I literally skip a few pages because I feel embarrassed reading it. Because I am an immature eighth grader. "Puberty" still grosses me out and I still giggle when someone says "I'm anal retentive." Maybe (more than likely) I'm missing the main point of the story. Maybe Kilgore Trout and I have something in common and I just have to dig through the dirty stuff to see it. Maybe.

Remind me to write some of my old journal entries in here. There are some angsty poems along with hearts and cheesy lyrics and two pages that say, "NEW BEGINNINGS!" Also, on almost every single page there is some mention of Steven Sizemore and my undying love for him. Like this,

"Yes, still in love with Steve :) Jessie and I have a fool proof plan to befriend him. HAHA! He's ADORABLE and NICE and PERFECT. At the Turnabout I will most definitely dance with Ryan or even ask Steve...if I ever speak to him. OH my my is that boy cute. AHHHH! If all guys were this cute I would go nuts! Is it strange that I think about him 24/7? Let us hope not."

Wait. What? This poem is just ridiculous. I have no idea who this is talking about. Or why, at fifteen, I had thoughts like this.

"to float through your eyes
would be like heaven
no blemishes, i stand before you
perfect as i’ll ever be
your hands without such doubt
you know me better than i know myself
your mouth with stories untold
spring from your ashes-oh!
how you are my world
what more can i ask of you?
your whole presence makes me
burst out like first rays of the morning
you are my superhero
my perfect white knight in blinding-shining armor"

Ew.