(no subject)
I'm in my lovely housemate's bed drinking wine (no no, not like that) and wanted to announce that once again webmail is being a fuckhead and I can't access my email. So, Evrrenmou, that's why I'm MIA. Also:
Lindsay and Matt, if either of you are reading this, I might come to Paris on March 21st for about a week. Tell me what's up.
My glands. Maybe I have lymphoma? Or whatever it's called. I hope not. I've been eating lots of garlic, drinking water, cutting back on alcohol (well, except for red wine, which is obviously healing), sleeping.
Today I read lots of Bergson, exercised, and started in on the section of a thousand plateaus about the smooth and the striated. Life is good, despite my glands. But seriously. What is this about?
love love.
Lindsay and Matt, if either of you are reading this, I might come to Paris on March 21st for about a week. Tell me what's up.
My glands. Maybe I have lymphoma? Or whatever it's called. I hope not. I've been eating lots of garlic, drinking water, cutting back on alcohol (well, except for red wine, which is obviously healing), sleeping.
Today I read lots of Bergson, exercised, and started in on the section of a thousand plateaus about the smooth and the striated. Life is good, despite my glands. But seriously. What is this about?
love love.