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Monday July 8, 2002 - 11:04 p.m. Oh. I'm home. I was going to write to you all about Kim Cattrall and how no matter what she does, to me she will always be this split personality of Gracie Law from Big Trouble in Little China and Emmy from Mannequin, because I'm obsessed lately with thinking of all these people that just sort of got locked into these images and characters and themes for me when I was a child and they will never, ever be able to struggle free no matter what they do now or in the future, or did before they entered my conciousness, sort of like that Br'er Rabbit story or whatever, but then I did this Google search and got really really depressed because Chet is lost forever and for good. And I'm reading this thing this chick wrote about him and I want to tell her, oh yeah? Where were you when he never spoke and he had those glasses and I insisted to everyone he was hothothot and people thought I was weird? Yeah, wait a year, I told them. I was right, see? So who the hell are you? Bitter. And possessive. That's me at 11:09 PM when I find gushing tributes to my former best friend who just sort of blipped out of existence. Yeah, well. Are you glad I'm home? I sure as hell am. You should see the size of these here mosquito bites. I'm not kidding. You think I'm kidding? Ask Louise. And for the record, I do have this really strange habit of invading any personal space that happens my way with my ass when I'm asleep, but I never, not once, touched Louise with my hind end whilst in Michigan. This is something I'm proud of, and no matter how trivial it may seem, they can't take that away from me. Victory! So. Talk to you tomorrow, right after I undoubtedly delete this entry for coming across as entirely too weird. So read while you can, spooties. Love,
-Mlle R
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