Surly girl

In the plane heading New Orleans.

My land lady (Geri) is gonna pick me up at the airport; she is very kind. I hope I can find a nice place to live and buy a decent car. I have to get the social security number before everything and get my driving license.

I don’t feel good at all. I feel depressed. Tomato juice tastes terrible who invented this as a beverage? I hate him. I want something and I don’t know what it is. Life is getting harder and harder as we live. Why is that?

Some very young guy started talking to me in the previous plane and then asked if he can have my phone number. I didn’t know what to say so I gave it to him. He was like twenty or something working in navy. I have no idea what that would mean to him that I gave my number and I don’t wanna think about it.

I have two DVDs from my friend’s vocal which I really really want to listen now but I don’t know why it asks for special decoder. Darn. This was definitely the only thing that could calm me down.