www.sofiavergara.com

"God"'s gift to....anything sighted. And my boy is trying to convince me I'm as attractive as her.
And the graph of Rich Kid's credibility just took (yet another) steep decline.

I don't even WANT to be as beautiful as her! I wouldn't be able to handle it! I'd become autosexual in a heart beat, and then I'd never care to listen to another man (or woman) lying about how pretty I am.

Fucking gorgeous picture my sister took of me, though. Best one I've ever seen of me. And yes, I'm aware, neither of those were actual sentences. Screw you for your criticism!

You wouldn't GIVE a fuck if Sophia Vergara had poor english skills. (which she probably does, being that she's spanish....make that "latin-american")

I wonder at exactly what point I turned THIS profane. (make that "THIS fucking profane.")

My head is throbbing....either from stress, overexhaustion, or looking at that flawless-ity (play on "felicity", and a bad one at that!) for too long. Which reminds me of a sonnet:

"When I too long have looked upon your face,
Wherein for me a brightness unobscured
Save by the mists of brightness has its place,
And terrible beauty not to be endured,
I turn away reluctant from your light,
And stand irresolute, a mind undone,
A silly, dazzled thing deprived of sight
From having looked too long upon the sun.
Then is my daily life a narrow room
In which a little while, uncertainly,
Surrounded by impenetrable gloom,
Among familiar things grown strange to me
Making my way, I pause, and feel, and hark,
Till I become accustomed to the dark."

Edna St. Vincent Millay.

It was that poem for which I first fell in love with the woman, and that poem for which I borrowed a book of her poetry from a certain Mr. Ladd, who then left our school, and my, thereafter, doomed little life forever. I still have it, but seldom look at it as now I own a vollume with her entire poetic works.....I needed this, of course, because I could no longer stand the idea of borrowing a book of her work from anyone, lest they might leave me, forever. I remember, distinctly, reading one of floyd's millay books when she offered to let me borrow it, at which point I freaked out. Not entirely pleasant.


Buying a fish with Mark tonight, I saw this beautiful dog in the kennel shop and missed my dog so much that I could barely keep it together. (just then I wrote "kennel shot" accidentally, how's THAT for freudian?) www.geocities.com/journal/puppyloveDMH I'm thinking I'm only going to get my associates degree simply so I can move out of dorms as quickly as possible and get a dog. I need a dog to be complete. I need the way that I loved her, almost as thoughtfully and unselfishly as she loved me, doing things for her, little considerate things, that I haven't done for anyone sense.

One day I will, feeling quite altruistic, bring one of the fab five members home a Rawhide. And they will look at me funny.

My name is Linda, and I miss my puppy. On with it.