Spilled champagne in the trunk of my car last week. Ponygirl venture. It smelled really bad for a day, champagne rotting in the heat, but it went away on its own. Good thing too. The last thing I want to do right now is clean out my trunk.

For all my pissing and moaning I'm so much happier this year than I was last year. What's the difference? I could say it's Ray. I still think about how much he hurt me but at least he's not still doing it. I don't have to wonder why he won't just call me back like a human or let it ruin my birthday if he forgets. But it's more than that. I could say it's making music again, finding my voice in that sense, but that's still (always) such an uncertain thing. Maybe because I'm finally going to real college in September. It's everything. Things aren't perfect but they're so much better than when I came home last year. I was kind of a mess. I wanted to go back in time, I think, and spending a year walking in my own old shoes was more than enough to convince me not to do that again. So many bad decisions. Must move forward, not back.

Went to the saloon last night. Wasn't drunk enough to enjoy the new "ambiance". So many tight pants. Unfortunate mullet. Spectacular stache. Hard to believe how many people came out to party on a monday. In north county. Lots of dirty guys. I like that. Lately I just want to flirt with dudes and then disappear from their lives forever, to be remembered in a wistful, hungover haze. "That girl who said she reads the thesaurus on the crapper, was she real or just a dream?"