There was a skinny 19-year old girl on the plane the other day, an wan existential tomboy with Robert Smith (he of the Cure) bangs and an old school (think Bad News Bears) baseball jersey on. She sat back by the bathroom and wrote her innermost thoughts in a bulbous hand in an unlined notebook. In this day and age, she should really have had a blog, is what I say.
Friday, January 05, 2007
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