A bunch of photocopies and other cool things from A are up on the walls. A Belle and Sebastian plastic bag, the poem, the envelope, the million photocopies that are now plastered all over my doorway.

I got another package in the mail, but of course I woke up too late to go to the post office and pick it up. Pish. It probably contained more things to put up on walls.

Mother came and cleaned. And organized. And reorganized.

A new addition to the room: An antique drawer that hangs on the wall, with yellow insides and JEWELRY being the only legible word.

And the new blue fender strat is also a nice addition as well.

It smells of rotting chinese food. Perhaps the container of veggie fried rice should go sit in a trash can somewhere, not on top of a pile of unwashed clothing. The black wooden desk is cluttered, with papers, phone books, candy wrappers, and CDs. Pink Moon, Mermaid Avenue, Brazil Classics 1 (that only ended up there becaues of David Byrne), Dreams, Rei Mono. Eight Love stamps. Red mug, about to fall off the desk.

A newly added table contains all the cosmetics and skin stuff, because stress and no sleep causes acne. Hydrogen peroxide, Benzoyl peroxide, and every type of blemish-concealing cosmetic supply known to man is on the new chestnut sidetable. Q-tips and vaseline, too.

And she uses it.