my heart throbs for every thing! 

I have been utterly possesed by the idea of going to Paris ready to wear fashion week. My dreams are so close to being reality and I've got no rags to wear, no names upon which to swear and certainly no the body of a 6 foot model who is working.

I am stooping low- I will email all PR firm, I will email everyone I can find and ask to volunteer. I am willing to skip school, skip sleeping, spend lots of money if I can just go and stand in the very back, small and quiet, a veritable house cat compared to the rest of slews of crowds who belong there.

I will stitch I will lie to my way through, I will say I study fashion, I will say anything and everything if they just let me in.

I've got every address. If I dont do it now, then when will I? Why didnt I go to school to study fashion, my one deplorable life lore, my one addiction. 

DREAM JACKET!

GONE BE MINEEE

I used to have a gap between my two front teeth and I miss having it there.

I also want long long brown hair. 

Proud owner of the full schedule for RTW fall-winter 2009 runway collections for the week of march 5th-12th in Paris!!!

I just need to get details like locations ( I've already got the Balenciaga show! N.Ghesquiere hire me because I am full of charisma and will work hard to polish your beautiful shoes with my drool over your beautiful clothes). 

blasted, just how to get in? HOW TO GET IN?? 

and now, shows I would kill my neighbor to see:

Balenciaga, Balmain, Lavin, Martin Margiela, Dries Van Noten, YVES SAINT LAURENT, Chanel, Alexander McQueen, Chloe and Miu Miu

this is my list for the week.

may I re-iterate, HOW TO GET IN??

" dans le monde il faut avoir une volonte de fer, surmonter le froid et le chaud, la soif et la faim, les grandes souffrances aussi bien que les petits bobos. Le monde n'es pas, comme le imagine la jeunesse, un palais de fees ou l'on vit pour son plaisir"

Letter from Georges Sand

(loose translation:" in the world we have to have a will of iron, be able to suffer through cold and hot, being parched and hungry, all the huge suffering as well as the little ones. The world isn't the way the youth imagines it, as a palace of fairies where we live to have pleasure. '

I changed the way I write my "e"s again but just the little ones. The caps are the ones that dont change, yet everything else follows patterns of constant change.

they are a little bigger and a little more angular, she says "you have very artistic writing"  and I seys "why thank you" and she seys in that snooty little tone " no darling, I cannot read it"

yet I am proud of my loops and curls and the severe lines I draw, I am proudest of my "g"s which looked exactly like typed and she seeys " what letter is that?"

I am growing offended and growing cold because she hasnt seen that cursive calligraphy and she will shudder I can see her now with her stuttering teeth, she will dearly pay.

I will withhold the treasure of words from those who annoy, I will withhold attention and pay, I will stick my nose in my coffee cup and continue to stare forward in that blank way everyone hates

"what are you thinking?" they seeys

and I seeys " you will never know you garden gnomes"