Damn, I love me some Red Envelope.

I want this and this and this and this.

I just got the BEST E-MAIL HEADER EVER:

And no worries, I found my notebook. Mathias was drawing little balloons with smiley faces inside them, with a jaggedy three-year-old’s flair.

Oh, dear merciful heavens, I’ve lost my notebook! THE notebook! *Panic, panic-panic*
Whatever shall I do???

Given my current congested status, my foray into alkeehaul last night was a tad premature. Today I am croupy, slightly maudlin, and (what seems to be) irreversibly dehydrated. Sallow, hollow and whatever other -ow words you can think up.

Observation: I don’t understand drunkards who have a tendency toward anger or melancholy. I myself have always been quite the happy little intoxicated person. I am remarkably easy-going, smiling and quiet when drunk. Please do not confuse this with the sappy, hang-all-over-you drunk. That is not me, oh no-no-noooooo. I am Laid-Back Drunk Number One With A Bullet. And I always play a better hand of cards then. /Observation

i hope you don’t listen to me / i don’t always say what I’m thinking / and sometimes I’ll tell you / what I think you want to hear / but most times I just talk to make sound

i wish i was here / i wish i was anywhere

i broke down the door to my house / when I lost the key / everything I have has been lost or stolen / and even my good friends / have stopped comin’ around / since I started wearing my dragon hat

i wish i was here / i wish i was anywhere / where i might feel / where i might reach out to you / ohhhhh

there’s a dead heart / lying on my doorstep / i used to think i’d pick it up / and use it once in awhile / now i step around / i step around it and claim not to notice / ahh, well, i see it, i see it / but mostly i don’t care

i wish i was here / i wish i was anywhere / where i might feel / where i might reach out for you

but i think you know now / it’s just not that easy

well i hope / you don’t follow me down /
cause i never look / where i’m jumping / and everyone who comes along / winds up dead or broken / but my rubber legs / always seem to save me

i wish I was here / i wish i was anywhere / where i might feel / where i might see you

but i think i know now / and i just don’t get better

i’d rather die / than say I was wrong

i hope you don’t listen to me / ’cause i never think before speaking

Remarkably drunk, suitably sleepy. On nights like this I have vivid dreams where things like magical sporks and my grandmother hand-painting hair ribbons (along with matching corsets for me to wear) happen. Then it all gets crazy and I’m drowning in a dream that I know is a dream but it makes me cry out anyway from the sheer force and audacious dark meanderings of it.

Good night, and I hope that you are presently dreaming of kind things and lollipops and tender kisses from newly-found lovers.

I have the overwhelming urge to vomit.

(link procured from Kaya)