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It's fun to be cleaning the kitchen after dinner, and talking to my mom and realizing that at some point in my life I managed to wonder accidentally on to the set of Emril Live. The food that that fucking fantastic when my mother cooks. So as graduation approaches I'm doing that soul searching thing. You know, bad teen movie soul searching. I want to write that I have come to some conclusion any kind of conclusion, but I haven't. As far as I can tell I'm still that 13 year old girl crying in the bathroom of my foster home because I've gotten my first period and I don't have anyone to pull a Veda Sultinfus with. "COME BACK IN 3 TO 5 DAYS" Or I'm the 16 year old getting kicked out of Alfie's Pizza (it's in Washington) because we built a straw out of a bunch of other straws that's the biggest straw EVER, and I hat to stand on top of a huge bench to drink out of it and I fell onto an unsuspecting waiter. In no way shape or form do I feel like the cropped blond headed 18 year old, ready to face college and the world. I'm not really fitting in to my own shoes right now. The shoes I made like some kind of fucked up cobbler. It's really twisted what we do to ourselves.
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