Reading Zafra.

It's 2am and I'm reading Jessica Zafra's blog.

When I read her, I feel like I want to be her.

When I read her, I feel like I can't ever be her.

When I read her, I feel like, ew, sports?

Is she my IDOL? God forbid, I hate that word.

Somehow she just fits my everyday mood.

The standard-issue Mavic is made in Zafraland.

10 parts sarcasm, 90 parts genius. Yup, that would be me.

Or maybe I'm more of 90 parts sarcasm. 10 parts whinny ninny.

Do I like cats? No.

I have two dogs. The left and the right. Shit. It is 2am ok. Yeah, you just read that.

Do I like tennis? No.

I swim. I do indoor looser exercise DVDs and I think that Chalene Johnson is god.

Do I have sponsorships with National Bookstore? No.

Ok, yes, Zafra is out of my system.

For now. I can finally write about other things.

Exeunt left!

Change

One day

you start to realize

how many times you work

late night

on

a

weekend.