Contrive, 137 points.

I have been playing scrabble. I LOVE scrabble. I have also been playing boggle. i LOVE boggle. word games are ridiculously fun, and even though they made me feel stupid when i first start to play them, when i got better, even just a little better, i felt smarter, accomplished, even though i am only average. I feel especially intelligent (and a little douchy, since word games have more to do with vocabulary and awareness than intelligence) when i play with someone who has never played, and they are really bad. This may be terrible, but you all know what I'm saying. And then i can tell them, with an air of offhand condescension mixed with a slight feeling of superiority and impatience that is so popular these days, "Don't worry, it gets easier. Trust me. I know."

Philip Glass has boy hair.

I am in a play at Portland Community College right now called All In The Timing, by David Ives. It is six one acts in one long play, all of which are very funny, and very strange. I play a monkey named [John] Milton, and Philip Glass, who buys a loaf of bread. We open very soon, next thursday, actually, and i was going to have to wear a wig for Philip Glass, since he is a man and i... well, i am not. But: i really dislike wigs. They're itchy and hot, and if i don't have to wear one, i don't want to. Because, you see, i have a very fast change from being Milton the Monkey to being Philip Glass, so i would have to wear the wig under the monkey hat they are making us monkeys wear, and then keep the wig intact when i remove the monkey hat. Not something i am interested in.
So, to make a long story not-so-short, i am getting my hair cut on Sunday. And it is going to be short.

Confession #1:

Most of the time, i wish i were a country singer. Or was on the way to becoming a country singer. And not just a plain old girl with a guitar at an open mic night on a small stage, but a real country singer STAR, like Dolly Parton, or Carrie Underwood, or Patsy Cline. When the longing for a thick, southern accent hits me hard, i listen to a playlist on my iTunes entitled "Yer Bad Fer Me" for a few weeks, until the nearly unmanageable urge lessens to a small tickle in my scattered brain.
*sigh*
The urge has not yet subsided, and so i am currently listening to three women singing about two women who say goodbye to a man named Earl.

Plain Jane tries to be not-so-plain, and succeeds. Terribly.

There is this girl that i know. I go to school with her. She looks like her name is Jane, Mary, Therese. It isn't. She is tall, and classically pretty, i guess, and has some really cute clothes. I don't know that i would every wear them, but they are cute.

Except, the way that she puts them together is very strange to me.

Today: A brown blouse with multicolored triangles, which i like very much, and could maybe be cute with her (slightly tacky) purple coat with gathered sleeves and a bow on the collar, and even maybe with her black capris (thought not together, like she is wearing them today), but i do not really understand the faded salmon zip-up hoodie with the cute, sweet flower print paired with red and white striped Toms (which i think are normally really cute, when worn with the right clothes) and a large, black thing that i'm pretty sure is supposed to be a flower in her hair. I am always perplexed by people who have good wardrobes but have no idea how to put together an outfit that is cute.

Maybe next time it will be better. I can only hope, for the sake of a piece of my sanity.