this is where we used to live.

I slept spooning with hobo last night and her velvet ears fell on my pillow. I have a new home. I have a new teamaker. I read the first half of my book out loud last night to Albie. All he could say was " heavy". I have so much to say but so much drama has happened in the last 24 hours that I am almost completely ready to get back into bed and it is morning.

Met Bette Milder last night and all she said to Emily was " you have a hit on your hands". Between the docu-crew following our every move, some last minute changes and the fact that I am about 14 years old in my ability to handle stress yesterday was not good. The show was good, but my soul was not. Going to rectify that this morning.

I wonder if there will ever come a time where I do not have to think about being a better, bigger stronger person. If like riding a bike I will just wake up one day and be able to handle myself correctly. My path to enlightenment is really rocky.

Seems to me that hot blondes are replaceable in every area of life. I like to think something about me is so special that I cannot be replaced with someone else's warm body, or someone else's hot dancing body, and this just is not the case. We are all replaceable and maybe none of us really matter except to ourselves. How is that for depressing?

"I know we don't live here anymore, we bought an old house on the dance floor"