Jul. 18th, 2002

sholanda: (Default)
silverlake at night.
micheltorena.
lantern lights twinkling all the way up the sides of the hills.
trash and rock n roll is a perfect soundtrack.
sunset.
cafe tropical.
graffiti.
hispanic grandmothers.
hold on,
there's quite a hill.

beautiful people everywhere.
sholanda: (easyrider)
sherri said it would be hard to be my age with kids in la. there's so much to do and so much fun to be had. i'm over most of it, but occaisionally there's shows i think i will die if i don't see.
and they go on without me.

sherri made stuffed manicotti. it was good. the children were insane banshees.

sherri listens to me, which is a great gift. she is becoming a very close friend.

home. and then i talked on the phone reluctantly for an hour. i say reluctantly because i would really rather be doing my own type of things, but i feel obligated. since i know what it's like to be a mom and she's probably just hungry for information about her kid.

i don't think the drugs are working anymore.
nothing is really helping me shake this funkiness.
i want to cry and cry.
i want to curl in a ball and not talk to anyone.

i have fantasies about eating in indian restraunts.
i have fantasies about hotels.

did an open house, met an interesting potential co op member.

i am sick now, all of a sudden. i don't get sick much. i wonder what it is.
sam has the day off tomorrow, but we have a playdate. someone is coming HERE. the first person from our school to come over. i am fucking petrified. i have been to these people's houses. i have seen how the other half lives.

i am fucking burnt out.
help.

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sholanda

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