I received a book of Anne Sexton's poetry in the mail today. The return address was DV, but there was no note or name attached to the book. hmm... I have my suspicions who it's from. There's only a couple of people who know how I feel about Anne.
Cranny's going to kill me if I call him late to sing one more time. I can't help it, the creative block I've had for months is crumbling. This is good for painting and songwriting, but hell for my grades. My A's are all crumbling, too. A 69 in French.. Mon Dieu! I'm sure i can drag it up to a B, do colleges really care at this point? As long as I don't pull an Alex I'll be fine. God. I find out in a month. I'm not gonna think about it.
At least I have art to fall back on... since I put stuff up at Nellie's I've had 6 offers to buy stuff and 2 of the local galleries want to book me. That's pretty cool.
This has been a pretty good February. I spend a lot of time with Gen and Jen and Jay at the tattoo shop. And too much time at the Venture with Caitlin and Jen. Ahh well. There's worse ways to spend your weekends than dancing to Gogol Bordello in a bar where you and your friends are the only people with full sets of teeth.