THANK YOU

i just dont understand anyone half as well as i should. i'm very sad.
it's not my fault.
it's not my fault.

neck:
thanks for holding my head and chin up when i need it most. even if my head is filled with the unnecessary or the ridiculous, you keep it up anyway. and when it's down, it always comes up again, thanks to you. i appreciate it. the collarbones are a nice touch.

feet:

for walking me places.

hands, wrists, arms:

hands for writing and being pretty and dealing with my excessive time spent on the computer typing. wrists for not breaking when you should have while i ski or write too much. arms: could you be less cold in the fall and winter and all the time in general? other than this, thank you for being there to hug people, animals and myself when i need it, or other need it. thank you. thank you. thank you.

knees, legs:

for wearing socks and tights and pants. and tolerating it. i keep you as warm as i can. sorry if i complain that you aren't little enough. you are good the way you are. also sorry i make lists on you all the time, you are conveniently positioned. knees, thank you for all the bruises that earned me those embarrassing nicknames when i was young. thank you.

eyes: sorry that i wear makeup on you occasionally. i never wear very much at all. you are a nice green. the pupils are a little overbearing. but you reflect my desire for open-mindedness, even if on occasion i lack that. thank you for seeing films and the sky and the stars. thank you.

hair:

you are pretty. for drying nicely, and tolerating the few years that i straightened you often. i'm sorry for that. i will never go back. thank you for keeping my head warm and being cute.

lips:

for speaking even when i sometimes shouldnt; i am trying not to regret it as much. and for smiling, even when i sometimes don't want to. you can't help it. i love you. thank you.

i love you.

Dad: Now ems where do the teabags go? Not in the sink. in the trash.

Me: I don't even have a teabag.

Dad: Yeah, now you don't. It's probably in the sink.

bones and
The count of monte cristo is on my reading list, officially. if it's good enough for jean-dominique bauby, that means it must be important. how he inspires me so.