8:54 p.m. - 2004-04-13
New York
I live inside my head, where all is murky and insubstantial, like unfiltered water, and nothing but the will of Neptune is of any importance to me. Every time I try to make toast, I only burn it more, but those scars at least can be consumed. My dress is supposed to be strapless, and for the first time, I remember the pink of my arm and wonder if it will stand out against the false whiteness of that as-of-yet still-unseen gown. Before, I withered in the heat of the South; now I shrivel in the cool of the North, like Ramona, who only wants cornbread to be sulky.

B&N company policy implies that the customer is always stupid.

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