New journal.

Dear Fleur.
It's really loud in the kitchen right now. I'm drinking vanilla comoro. Blogging. Researching star names. And writing a story with an autistic boy in it. I'm always surprised of what kind of noise I'm able to write in.
It's kind of like being underwater I guess. I block it out and keep swimming.

Noël came and went. It was nice I suppose. It was crazy on Christmas Eve. Up till 1AM on the living room floor making hairbands and little books and writing letters and sewing. I made the biggest mess ever. And half of the time I was distracted by my story I was writing about a guy who likes Emily Dickinson's poems. That was a good writing night for me.
On Christmas day,
I got a KitchenAid. Laria bought me a new journal. My Grandma gave me Dallas Clayton's book. And I now have 4 tins of loose leaf Harney&Sons. So I'm pretty much set for life. The only things I'm missing are some leather lace-up boots, a white down comforter, and a ukulele. And maybe a car. I guess I need a car. But I'm working on all those.

I'm going to go read now. And write in rich boy poor boy. That's what the star names are for.
Love Bell.