I hope Heaven is an indie rock concert

Only not really, because at concerts there are all these people invading my personal space. Apparently, they don't all know that I have an invisible bubble around me and the only people that can come in are the people I personally invite.

Also. Dear Tall People, please stop standing directly in front of me. Did you notice that I'm about a foot shorter than you are? All I want to do is catch the occasional glimpse of the stage, but I can't see through your gigantic head. Move. MOVE. Please?

I came up with this idea last night that since I'm only 5'2, I should be allowed to stand on a stool all night that will bring me up to average height, which is what? 5'6? Or something? I don't know. I feel really claustrophobic in situations like crowded concerts. I've tried to explain this to people, but I don't think they get it. See, when I'm in a big crowd and there are people all around me and they're all taller than I am? I feel like I can't breathe because the tall people are stealing all the air. Also, I'm kind of afraid of getting trampled. The good part about being short in these situations? You can usually wind your way through a crowd pretty quickly by like ducking under elbows and stuff. I realize I'm making it sound like I'm only three feet tall and I know this isn't the case, but sometimes it feels like that, OK? OK.

Anyway, there were no mishaps at the concert, so I didn't have to break onto Spoon's tour bus or anything. Everything was SO GOOD, you guys, from the White Rabbits to The Walkmen to Spoon's double encore, my heart was so happy.

I guess my heart is still happy (just sleepy) because the sun is out and it's warm enough for just a t-shirt and Lord knows I have enough t-shirts to last about 100 warm days. Heidi and I had waffles for breakfast and we're headed to Cox (hee) Arboretum soon. I think it's gonna be a good day.

Is there anything sadder than homeless robots at X-mas? Only drowning puppies, and there would have to be a lot of them.

I'm just wondering . . . is it completely obvious that I have absolutely no idea what the hell I'm doing most of the time? Usually I'm pretty oblivious to it but lately it's all I can think about. Bleh.

Anyway, remember when I was catsitting? When my aunt and uncle came back, they brought Heidi and I some sweet windchimes for our balcony. See:

They're CATS! Get it? Cause we were CATsitting? Laugh, you bastards. Anyway, so we hung them up (obviously, see the picture?) and they are SO LOUD. It's awesome because the fuckers who live below us slam their damn door ALL THE TIME. Payback's a bitch. Mwaahaahaaa!

Speaking of gifts, last night Heidi went all Monica Geller and was cleaning and going through all her clothes. She has more clothes than anyone I know. It's awesome because she gave me some capri pants that she was going to get rid of but earlier that day I was complaining about how I didn't have any capris and I didn't want to buy any blah blah no money etc. Anyway so I tried on this one pair and they came down to my ankles and just looked like high-waters. You know, it's really a shame that I'm a freaking munchkin.