Sooner Than I Expected

I was hoping they would survive at least another album.

Sleater-Kinney is the best therapy I have ever found. They inspired me. They made me feel good when there was nothing to feel good about. They gave me something to look forward to.

I thank them from the bottom of my heart. They were truly unique. Never before and never again.

Listening to their songs now, it all has new meaning for me. Each song says goodbye.

I do hope that they are all well, and that Marshall is the reason for this, because he is a damn good reason for an "indefinite hiatus." That is completely understandable.

Goodbye, Sleater-Kinney. I love you, Janet Weiss, Corin Tucker, and Carrie Brownstein. You'll always be the queens of rock and roll in my heart.

Pride Day

Happy Pride Day.

I support love.

This Old House

I am listening to the tile installers talking about the awful state of the concrete underneath our carpeting:

"Eh, dis concrete stay all funny kine, eh? Like it wen rain or someteen wen dey wen poa em."
("Doesn't this concrete look funny? It seems like it rained when they poured it.")

"Ho, look like dakine, eh?"
(I'm guessing this is the "bad" dakine.)

Our house is in bad shape, but we're working on it.

My mom says that after my skin is fixed (the herbal stuff is working), I have to fix my teeth (wisdom removal), and then she added, "and your hair." Haha, I guess my hair really does look strange now that it's getting long. She said something about a watermelon while she was describing the style I should have. I'm a little worried now.

The Bedroom Recordings

I just realized that I am blogging at a very alarming rate here. Don't I have a life?? Yes, I do, but I also have a few awkward hours after the sun goes down when I don't really feel tired, but it's too late to do anything else.

I've been dreaming about making a CD. I've been thinking about all of the usual things like album art and lyrics. For the liner notes, I would probably just take digital pictures of my original handwritten lyrics and shrink them down to CD case size. Actually, I wrote my first "real" song on xanga as a blog post. Weird. I left that song on my old computer.

As for album art, I would want my best friend to paint pictures for me. She is a great artist, although she'll be the last one to admit it. At this point, I don't see myself ever doing it, though. If I do give out CD's (keyword: GIVE - I don't think anyone would waste money on them anyway), I'd definitely want to know the people who are getting them. I'd write little notes on each one to make it interesting.

I remember reading an interview where Janet said that she's glad that S-K doesn't have a huge crapload of fans (of course they do have a lot, but I think she meant relative to mainstream bands) because it would bother her to know that so many people were listening to them. I think I'm beginning to understand what made her say that.

I'm listening to stuff I did two years ago and I noticed:

1. Too many cliches in my lyrics. Agh, gotta stop that.
2. Really bad singing. Dang, I think it's still like that these days, too.
3. Really bad playing. Hey kid, ever heard of a metronome? Or at least keeping time in your head?
4. Emphasized "r" sounds. I must have been aiming for a career in Country music.
5. Awkward lyrical rhythm. I knew what I wanted to say, but the words came out sounding very unsure because I didn't know how to sing melodies.

Oh well, you'll see.

"The Bedroom Recordings" is coming out soon. It will contain previously unreleased tracks (a designation of "released" means that it has been featured on my music MySpace and a human being besides myself has listened to it) My friend Andy will get the only known copy in existence. Poor guy.

My mom gave me one of these today:



Hers looks just like that one, except it's black. Her dad bought it for her when she was 18. It still looks brand new. I was so excited when she handed it to me. I couldn't believe it was so nice. My old capo is a cheap but trusty Dunlop with the nylon strap. This new (or...um...old) one is built like a tank!

Car Singers

Whenever I see other car singers, it makes me smile really big.

I've gotten to the point where I don't even care anymore if people see me screaming my face off in the car. I can have the worst day of my life, but once I get in the car and put on one of my CD's, it turns into the best day of my life. No kidding. Car singing is the best therapy.

Exam today? Car singing.

Failed the exam? Car singing.

Date tonight? Car singing.

Crappy guy? Car singing.

It fixes everything.


Me looking at the snow during our "drive around the entire lake" drive at Lake Tahoe.

I've realized that I don't even need a boyfriend. I just need my music and I will be happy until the day I die.

[begin sarcasm]

Wow, I've done some very stupid things in my time and the irritating thing about it is that I've only got myself to blame for it. Where are the scapegoats?? I need someone to be angry at because I am always right. You made me do bad things so I will hate you for it and curse you for it because you are always wrong. I had no say in what went on, so naturally nothing could ever be my fault.

[end sarcasm]

The Lake House (PRO and cons of seeing it)

(This post is being written to the sounds of "Mix 1")

I'll leave out plot details for anyone who actually wants to see it.

My family wanted to see a movie tonight, so someone picked The Lake House and we watched it. It was not a great choice for many reasons (and some big ones that were completely unrelated to the film.)

Cons:

-First of all, the audience was horrible. My own brother kept asking questions in an unnecessarily loud voice. The kids - okay, I'll be fair, they were teenagers - in the row behind us kept talking during the quiet parts of the movie, especially during the emotionally important parts.

-Another letdown was Keanu Reeve's performance. Sandra Bullock did a decent job with a fairly crappy script.

-The layout/order of the story seemed okay to me, but my parents were still really confused by it. It didn't seem to flow well enough to keep the attention of people who don't notice all the small details.

-Let's face it...predictable. If you're actually paying attention to what's going on, you'll be ten steps ahead of the characters. Well, considering the (Andy, hahaha, you put Mystery Girl! So, you must have gotten my photo caption earlier.) whole hook of the movie, it's kind of hard to have any sort of surprises.

-No character development. They try, but it comes across as cheesy.



PRO:

-Sandra Bullock's hair totally reminded me of Carrie Brownstein. At random points in the movie, the camera would show SB from a certain angle and all I could think of was CB. The plot went completely out the window.

Music Video #2: Modern Girl Cover

Another one! This is a video for a cover of S-K's "Modern Girl."

Contest: Find all of the S-K references.

The lucky winner gets absolutely nothing.

Maybe you'll get a virtual high-five. We'll see.




click here to download

Guitar Neglect

I play my guitar late at night (unplugged) a lot now because I don't have time during the day. As a result, I usually start falling asleep as I'm playing without even realizing it. A few nights ago I woke up with my guitar at my feet, on the edge of the bed, and I was so scared and angry at myself for being so careless. So...if you know what I named my guitar, you would understand how I would feel if it had been pushed off by my feet onto the floor.

This morning I woke up with my guitar right next to me. I'm so stupid. I keep thinking, what if I had rolled over and smashed the poor thing? Worse is the fact that it has been out of its case for a while, which is really really bad for it since there is salt water right outside.

I've had it for a year and a half and so far, it still looks new because I've been so careful with it and always kept it in the case to prevent rust.

I'm becoming a bad guitar owner.


Beautiful SG! I would love to able to afford one someday...

Last night I had another weird dream. A couple of friends and I were at the record store and I was looking for the new Erase Errata CD. Someone saw it and then my best friend in the whole world screamed, "I LOVE ERASE ERRATAAAA!!!" The thing is, I've never talked to her about EE because I figured she wouldn't like them.

Anyway, I grabbed a copy, and somehow I had lots of money in my pocket, so that should have been a sign right away that I was dreaming (a few times I have become aware that I'm dreaming and started doing some crazy things because...well...it's just a dream). There was a guy cashier who was this monster of a person. Everyone told me about how mean he was and how he would rip up your CDs with his bare hands after you paid for it.

Wanting to spare EE the pain of being torn apart, I tried to get away from him but he saw me. I hid EE in the shelves and then fought the monster guy. I got him good in the face a few times but I don't know who won because then I switched to another dream that I have since forgotten. Weird weird weird.

Music Video #1: Get Yours

I'm doing a little music video experiment. This is the first one. Let me know if it's not working. I have no idea what I'm doing.

I hope my entire school doesn't mind being in my video.
:P

If you look closely, the subject of the song makes a quick close-up appearance. It's fast, so don't blink.




click here to download



I uploaded it to ourmedia.org, and it takes a while to load since it's around 12mb. You can actually just click on the picture and a pop-up player will open. You don't have to click the "click here to download."

My camera skills are not so good, sorry.

(ourmedia.org is a VERY cool site, by the way)

This is basically the "I hated high school" song.

Lyrics (so you can understand what the heck I'm singing about):

I saw your car. It's expensive. I thought about all of the things you and your friends did. You had it all. I was disgusted by how you wasted everything I'd ever wanted.

You're gonna get yours. We're all waiting for it. You're gonna get yours. You won't be ready for it. We're gonna watch you squirm. We're gonna watch you burn.

You've got something coming. I've got this feeling that this one is gonna be big. Shut your mouth. You're just a pig. You're gonna find out how it feels to be the ugly kid.

"Gay" is the new "loser"... and Cookie's a bruiser.

I've got some real things I want to talk about in this post.

A blog with a purpose? Yes, insane, I know.

The reason is that I need to write it down, but if I put it anywhere else, people I actually know (face to face) might see it.

My brother colored (or bleached?) his hair so that it's all blonde now. He used to have dark brown hair like mine. He went to taekwondo class today and two older black belt boys scolded him for it. They continued by making him an example in front of the entire class and telling them that they weren't allowed to color their hair.

I can only imagine the embarrassment and awkwardness he must have felt.

I don't agree with this at all. FIRST, taekwondo class is an extracurricular activity that we pay for. It's not private school. It's not the army. SECOND, they told him that they had announced the no-hair-coloring policy, but we had never heard of it until today. Obviously, if he had known about the rule, he wouldn't have done it, duh. THIRD, if they had a problem with it, they should have brought it up with his parents instead of scolding him and making him feel horrible in front of the whole class for breaking a rule he didn't even know existed.

While he was being scolded by the older boys, another boy told him that he looked "gay." This particular boy is always calling him "gay." I never thought much of it before because nowadays it seems like the cool thing to do is to call other kids "gay." My parents, however, have been slowly building up dislike for this boy and the "gay" remarks. I have to e-mail a letter to the instructor that my parents wrote to him. The boy is his son.

I'm bothered by how many kids I hear calling each other "gay." It's the new put-down. I don't recall ever using the word against someone when I was in school. These days, if you don't like something (or someone), just call it "gay" and your point will be made. Everyone will know that you despise it. They'll look down on it.

Such wonderful progress we're making, isn't it?

These kids are going to grow up with negative connotations of this word engraved in their minds. It might not seem like a big deal now, but I have a feeling it's going to only get worse. Hopefully, I'm wrong, though.


CHANGE OF SUBJECT


Here's our dog. She looks cute but she can be a real meanie. The neighbors have called the humane society on us many times. Don't interpret that the wrong way - we don't hurt her! She's just...noisy...which is exactly what we want for reasons that will soon be revealed. She barks at certain new neighbors (who come and go without warning so we have no way of preparing her for the strange new people) but they refuse to meet her so that she can get used to them. She guards my room.

We got her after I left my sliding door open one night (it was so hot!) and people came in, stole stuff, and grabbed a pair of my pants. In the morning, the pants were laying about 15 feet outside of my room and there was a cigarette butt on the ground. My dad thought I had gone crazy after a wild night with my imaginary boyfriend, but after I woke up, everyone realized it wasn't me. I had the worst headache and felt really dizzy throughout the entire day. My mom has some theories about this but I'd rather not think about it. A week or so later, people came into our house again and stole even more stuff. This time they broke a window on a door and stuck their arm through the hole. I had learned to close my door at night but they still found a way in.

Did I mention that we were all in the house, asleep, both times?

Our dog, Cookie, came to the rescue. Neighbors get grouchy about her barking and all they do is complain when they could be making friends with her. My dad and brother took her over to their house one night so that they could be introduced, but the neighbors just turned their backs and ignored them. I don't think our neighbors understand what we've been through. They don't know that horrible feeling of vulnerability. I like the feeling of having a grouchy (but loveable!) dog outside of my room at night, so to hell with whatever they say.

Leeds looked so good.

I just got a copy of the Leeds footage shot by "lost" (from sk.net). It's beautiful! After watching the last clip, I had a mini seizure because I was so overwhelmed by how great they were. Seriously, each song was more powerful than the last, if that's even possible. Carrie and Corin did the most amazing (drumless) version of Good Things. It was slow and emotional. I want to say that it's actually better than the studio version. Those ladies keep topping themselves. You can't decide what's better or worse when comparing S-K songs to S-K songs. They're all incredible.

Oh dear, what is the postmark date on that package? (click on it) *gasp*

My dad took us for a drive last week to go buy a new refrigerator. I forgot my iPod at home (a pitiful teenager am I) so I resorted to taking pictures.


I hate my holy pants. I never wanted to wear holy pants in the first place. Now the holes are huge because I keep accidentally sticking my toes through them. See a previous post for the angry rant.


We're going to town.


Along the way, we saw trees and mountains.


And more mountains.


And...you guessed it...mountains.


Did I mention that we saw trees?


Somewhere along the way, a shopping cart stole the show and my arm made an appearance.


We also saw boats.


I apologize for being redundant. The only decent pictures I took turned out to be of mountains, trees, and boats.


I do like the look of that blue sky, though. Compare it to the earlier non-town pictures of mountains and trees. It's always sunny downtown.


A fireboat!


I leave you with one final picture of trees (and a beautiful blue sky!). I'll try to improve my camera skills so that next time I'll actually have a nice variety to share.

E N D

"Darling, don't you go and cut your hair."

Oh, Pavement, such wise words, but I'm afraid I must.

I'll cut my hair. It'll cover up my face. I'm going to cut my bangs so that they stop being awkward layers and start being bangs again. Maybe I'll have the Karen O look. Or maybe I'll have the Carrie look. I never know until the ladies cut me up. I explain what I want exactly the same way, but each time I end up looking different.

Last time, I left the haircut place looking like I had stepped right out of the 80's. It was bad bad bad.

Haircuts for me are like gambling. Every now and then I'll hit the jackpot and look quite decent for a few months. Most of the time, I get screwed over and try to go out in public as little as possible until some of it grows back.

My dad really doesn't like my current hair. It's so long now that the layers look weird. A couple months ago, I had the Carrie look going on, with my layers sticking out in the front and my bangs doing that cool draping thing across my face.

Carrie has the coolest hair. Period. I like all of the hairstyles I've seen on her. I thought the super-short boy cut she had a while back looked especially cute.

My hair looked something like this about two months ago (the wildness was an automatic thing for a while with all the humidity):


Who wouldn't want to have this hair? I wish I could get mine to look like that, but it usually doesn't work.


Ultra-cute boy cut (See also - One Beat album photos):

"The Hungry Planet"

I get the National Geographic Magazine every month. This is the only magazine I actually read. This month (June 2006) they had a page about world hunger. The causes are different depending on where you are. Some people starve due to drought or other natural disasters. Others starve simply because people don't get along with each other.

Here are the first two sentences of "The Hungry Planet":

"More than 850 million people around the world - one in nearly seven - don't have enough to eat. Although current global food production is sufficient to feed everyone, the number eating less than the minimum the human body needs - an average 2,100 calories a day for adults - now grows by more than ten million a year, mostly in the poorest nations."

What is wrong with us? I wish so badly that I was in a position to do something about it. I have no money and I have no influence. I see other girls shopping for designer handbags. I see people buying overpriced designer clothes and those damned Hummers. Celebrities can spend thousands of dollars on a shopping spree and to them it's like dropping a few pennies on the ground. Now, what if we all got over ourselves and realized that many people are hurting much more than we are?

Sure, you want nice things and you want to live in comfort. Okay, I get that and I know most of us have worked hard to be able to afford the luxury we surround ourselves with. But it's still so heartbreaking. Don't you feel bad about it?

Every Saturday we stop at an intersection to turn left onto the Pali Highway. Homeless people sell newspapers on that corner and hold signs asking for work. They say they will work for food. They ask God to bless you. They say they are hungry. If you have eyes, you know they are desperate. We give them money. Sometimes I have nothing to give, and I look around the car for food to hand to them, but it's too late, I've been a pig and eaten it all. I tell myself to remember them.

How can you buy a Mercedes SUV (that you won't even drive through the mud), an ugly Burberry hat/umbrella/wallet, or spend $300 on sunglasses? It's unnecessary and it's gross. It's disgusting that you would be so wasteful.

Obviously, I feel strongly about this. I'll say it to anyone. I have said it before and I will continue to say it. I don't apologize if anyone is upset about me not understanding their hard work and how much they deserve what they have. I've been working since I was two years old. I would help wash cars by wiping anything I could reach. I started off doing wheels and gradually moved upward over the years. If I want to buy something, I spend less on lunch. It's that simple. Don't tell me I don't understand.

I own one pair of slippers (or flip-flops, depending on where you live), one bag ($20 or so at American Eagle), and three pairs of shoes, one of which has recently been retired due to its holiness, so I suppose that leaves two official pairs of working shoes. I shop for clothes twice a year, before the start of each semester. I just buy a couple of new shirts so that people don't think I'm living out of my backpack. You can laugh and call me a poor excuse for a girl, but I like what I've got and it's all that I need.

I'm not saying that people should just buy the bare necessities and deprive themselves of all happiness. I'm just trying to point out how so many people spend extra for things they don't need simply because they want to look impressive.

I tend to spend large sums of money on music, instruments, and other guitar/drum/recording accessories because that is my hobby. That is my outlet. I know other people have their own interests that they save their money for. I say go for it if that's what makes you happy, but don't waste money on trying to look fancy. That pisses me off so much, you have no idea. Neiman Marcus is my mortal enemy.

The Graveyard Shift

I can't even begin to describe the effect that late-night working has on me. It's empty, quiet, and lonely, which is the perfect combination to encourage philosophical thinking. I'll be sweeping up cigarette butts and mopping up icee drips while thinking about what I'm doing here. How long should I stay in this place? Will I ever get out? How do I know if I'm being too nice? Is it possible to be too nice? Will people appreciate it or take advantage of it? How do I know when to stop being nice and to start being assertive?

And then there are the more realistic questions, such as:

Should I let this person use the bathroom? Will they do drugs in there or make a big mess?
Should I card this person for cigarettes/alcohol?
Is this person trying to steal from me?

Every now and then some creepy older guy will hit on me. They're usually either drunk or stoned, or both. I hate these moments the most because it just isn't a nice feeling at all, no matter how flattering some people might think it would be. Some of them remember me from my younger days and that is creepy also, but I know they just mention it to seem nice and they are so out of their minds at the time that they don't know any better.

Sometimes I think about the customers. I think about what it would be like to have what they have. Some of them come in looking so down and lonely that it breaks my heart. What would it be like to only know this place, and to only know a life of welfare, where the money you spend isn't your own? What would it be like for this little town to be my whole world, the only place I will ever know in my entire life? It makes me feel thankful for every single thing in my life. I take so much for granted and it takes a night alone at work for me to realize it.

Tonight a lady asked me, "Eh, sistah, you don't get sked workeen dis kine houwas?"

I don't get scared, I just start thinking too much and sometimes that gets depressing. At the same time, it makes me feel like I've got the whole world to myself. Driving home with no other cars in sight, all green lights, and the S-K ladies playing me a song, I feel content to simply exist.

Adventures with the jazz band.

Okay, so it wasn't really an adventure. I played with the "Monday Night Jazz Band" tonight because my drum teacher plays with them and every now and then they let the students play a few songs. They're incredibly nice people for putting up with all of our awful playing. I pretended that I was Janet Weiss and it was exciting because the kit I was playing on sounded just like hers. I played two songs and thankfully I didn't mess up. The last time I went, I was so nervous that I screwed up the song even though I had practiced it countless times.

My teacher has the most amazing maple kit. He said it cost $4,000 and was made by a company called Ayotte. The head of the company, Mr. Ayotte, somehow lost his position and went on to start another drum company called Taye. The Taye drums use the Ayotte designs, but are about half the price. I need to start saving right now. We're looking at $2,000 for a high-quality maple kit that sounds INCREDIBLE. That's a bargain compared to $4,000. Go Taye. My Tama kit is made of mahogany, which sounds like nothing special, and my cymbals sound like trash can lids, even though I just bought a new set. When it comes to drums, you won't get anywhere cheaply, unfortunately.

From my brother's new phone (same as mine):


By the way, I'm wearing an S-K shirt, but you can't tell because the quality is horrible.
:)

I still haven't got my hearing fully back yet. I hit the crash cymbal so hard tonight that it actually hurt. I know I've got at least some permanent damage already because I have to turn the TV up super loud (according to my family) to hear what the people are saying. I only wear the carpenter-style earmuffs sometimes when I practice because I'm an idiot. I need to start being more careful.

Blue guitar, blue pedal, blue jeans, and now a blue phone.

My parents got me a new cell phone. I did NOT want a new phone, and I made this very clear, but we had to sign up for a new plan and for some reason we all had to get new phones. I don't know the specifics, but I was told there was no choice.

My old phone was one of the trusty-old-indestructable-terminator-non-flip-non-camera-non-video-NOKIA phones. I loved it dearly. My ringtone was "Disco" and there was no possibility of ever using a real song as my ringtone because it simply wasn't possible. No wallpaper. No pictures. Just a phone for talking and only talking. I didn't even have text messaging because my parents had it disabled. Not that I wanted to text message anyone, anyway.

My new phone is dark blue and silver with a matte finish. I'm sure it's nowhere near as durable as my old NOKIA, which had the looks of a tank, the kind you see at war, rolling in and out of ditches, crashing through walls and living to tell the story. The new phone has a sleek shape, which reminds me of a sports car. It boasts, "Look at me, pitiful NOKIA, look at my cool beauty." Its ego is so large it almost makes me sick. It flips open to reveal a ridiculously-power-wastingly-bright color display capable of changing wallpapers at the push of a button. It has a camera that can also record 30-second video clips. It has Bluetooth and infrared whatever. It has everything. I'm overwhelmed and slightly frightened by its complexity. I admitted this to my parents and they laughed the laugh of people who have just received a major shock and don't know of any other way to react to it. My world is unraveling through this technology that is supposed to make our lives so much better. We're supposed to take pictures of each other, smile, and know that everything will be okay because our phones are fancy. We're supposed to download new ringtones whenever another cookie cutter band craps out another incarnation of a song that has been sung countless times.

This isn't art, this is, "Hey loser, I am so much cooler than you are."

I've never had any interest in phone wars. Sometimes, I think the kids in class left their phones un-silenced so that they could show off their new ringtones. I don't want to be a part of it. I want to talk to you, but whether or not I am impressive while talking to you doesn't matter. Please, people, tell me you don't think it matters. If you do, I fear for this world.

I don't know if this can be considered as fighting back, or as disgracing my favorite band, but I've S-K-ized my new phone. I used the Bluetooth connectivity to send S-K pictures to the phone. I've got them as my wallpaper on the inside and the outside. I also sent Modern Girl and am currently using it as my ringtone (I couldn't stand any of the factory ringtones). What have I done?!?! Am I degrading them? Am I minimizing their art to mindless media in a little yellow folder? Of course I know it's not mindless, but I know this isn't what they wanted at all. I have become part of the problem. I want my NOKIA tankphone back. Give me my simplicity before I ruin something real.

:(

"Slayer-Kittie?" Part II

I was driving a friend home tonight after our jam session. We started talking about how much Jewish people can rock. I got really excited and started trying to explain how two women in my favorite band are Jewish and how hard they rock. I put on The Woods and exclaimed, "This is Sleater-Kinney, my favorite band!!!"

Him: "What??"
Me: "Sleater-Kinney!!"
Him: "...what...?..."
Me: "Slayyyyterrr Kinnnneeeeeee!!!!!!!"
Him: "Oh, I thought you said 'kitty.'"

Yeah, so neither of the two guys who I played with today knew about S-K, so none of the stuff I was playing made them really excited. Plus, since I tuned my guitar to match Carrie's, it got confusing. I tried tuning it up to match the other guitar but I had put on thicker strings earlier and the tension was too much for my tremolo bridge. It refused to be tuned up.

Where are all the S-K lovers?! Play covers with me, pleeeeeeeaaaaaaaaase.

Oh, and I probably heard one of the worst pickup lines ever.

"Do you sing? Sing a song!"
"I only sing in the shower. Would you like to join me?"

Hahahaha, bad one. I don't know, maybe the slutty girls would like that one. It caught me off guard so I just smiled awkwardly and wished that I was somewhere far, far away.

It looks like I won't be able to make any of the east coast S-K shows after all. :(
Yep, I'm only missing my one opportunity to see the greatest band in the world, playing songs from their entire career at a non-festival show. This depresses me more than stupid boys. It's that bad. I think I'll go play some more S-K covers by myself now.
(insert emo face here)

That'll be $500. Oh, that's right, I live here.

The painting is done! I'm excited to get to work on the floor on Sunday. Tomorrow has been designated an official day off. I'm going to take my drum lesson and then maybe go over to a guy's house to jam. He asked me tonight and it was probably the best thing anyone has said to me for a long time. I've been wanting to "jam" with anyone for the longest time. This is if he calls me, of course. No guarantees.

I love this song.


Pictures:


The old carpet and padding -


The bare floor -


The painted walls.


"Mystery girl, mystery girl, keep on faking your mystery world..."


Ohhh, this hot hot heat is killing me!


...and then the paint fumes went to my head.


I'll find any excuse to sing.


The end.