I have notebooks upon notebooks full of writing. Some of it was done before the computer day and age.

But there's one notebook in particular one that's always been with me, one that's stuck by my side through high school (don't ask me how long ago THAT was), through college, through numerous moves, boyfriends, situations, and weather. It has been abused, misused, left in the sun, drenched in rain, and has had various substances spilled all over it.

It's a hunter green slightly metallic Mead Five Subject Five Star notebook.

The first manila divider pocket is torn from over use. The only word on the divider is scribbled in black gel ink. "Series."

The second manila divider pocket is not torn, but holds various receipt papers with writing in pencil, pen, crayola, sharpie, and colored pencil. It is simply labeled: "Shorts."

The third manila divider pocket is not only empty, but also blank. It was never used. In the years that I have had this notebook, and various others, the third divider pocket has never been used in any of them. Maybe it's a superstition, but the only thing wrong with this manila folder is that it has just one water mark on the bottom left hand corner. Who knows, after all I have put this notebook through, it could be something entirely different than water.

Finally, the fourth and final manila divider pocket is scribbled all over. "Smutfics, Notes, Snippets, Character Profiling" line the top. "don't look at me with those sad, sad eyes" is scrawled across the pocket. It was probably written in tribute to an ex boyfriend at some part in it's existence. The back of the folder is covered in different scribblings, but no words can be made out.

I like things. I like sassy things.

Apparently I've been a member since 2004, but have yet to post anything.

We'll see about that soon, won't we?

Mad Girl's Love Song
A Villanelle

By Sylvia Plath
Smith College, '54

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in;
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade;
Exit seraphim and Satan's men;
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead'
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

Vladimir Nabokov - Lolita
"Oh, I've been such a disgusting girl," she went on, shaking her hair, removing with slow fingers a velvet hair ribbon. "Lemme tell you--"
"Tomorrow, Lo. Go to bed, go to bed-- for goodness sake, to bed."

Jacqueline Susann - Valley of the Dolls
"If I thought you did, I would never have brought it up. And if I wanted a girl just for the weekend, there's a large cast to choose from. I wouldn't have to go after one who was taken."

James Frey - My Friend Leonard
Rebuilding, changing, having to deal with the damage, having to face the fear. If I make it through, then you can call me fucking tough.
You'll make it through.