10 june 2002.1213pm

the other day, the woman who lives next door was hiding by our garbage cans in our driveway. my mom went out to talk to her, and the woman divulged that there were three men on bicycles trying to kill her and she needed to hide somewhere, and she was pretty sure my mom, or possibly i, was telepathically talking to her and telling her to come over. "are you sure your daughter wasn't talking to me in my head? is her name angela?" i wanted to call the police. instead, my mother went over to her house and had the woman's son come and get her. "you can hide over at our house, mom." these are the same people who wake me up with their vomiting in the morning and play loud butt-rock music at 3am. later they brought over some roses. i still want to notify authorities.


"you're just going to end up going out with some guy that screams like he's in a hardcore band when you have sex." --lindsay, on me and my relationships.