i've got exodus damage.
and i'm
dying to read james frey.
and it doesn't matter at all for better or worse that he "lied" in his book.
psh.
i happen to
like fiction, and when its told as though it were a truth, its infinitely more enrapturing. and, um, i actually
*like* being enraptured, so mr. frey, keep lying and just fuck oprah and her "book club."
mall with melanie tonight--bought a hat, cologne, vogue (she bought it for me actually), and girl scout cookies.
defy gravity
