Why do I foolishly attempt to write as if I'm currently capable of summoning laudable thought from the purplish abyss that is my mind and correctly articulating it? Why must I pretend? I’m too tired to talk right now, why would I expect writing capacity or eloquence? Because I’m an impractical little fool who lives her life bobbing about in her delusions. I see nothing wrong with that…

I’m going to a BBQ Marliegh is throwing in about 15 minutes; I just thought I’d type out some rubbish before departing.

Where on earth did Natalia Vodianova go? Yes, she can still be seen in every fashion magazine, but no longer in ever fashion show. 2004 Fall RTW was almost completely deficient of the Russian beaut, and her face is becoming less and less common. Pity; I was just starting to warm up to the girl. Meh. Her time has come, I suppose, or is on its way. Funny, though, how she’s reached her peak and she’s barely 20. Ha. Talk about one big scandalous bang of a career.

I’m going to go get ready now. I’m as sexy as Mrs. Vodianova any day, I just have to spend 10 minutes to look it. So I’m afraid I must leave you now. Farewell.