Johns
9:37 a.m. - September 12, 2003
I am one fucked up little girl.
Partied like a rock star last night, drank and danced and smooched the night away.
Jeager. Meh.
On my way into work I stopped for a bacon egg and cheese bagel and then sat in the office parking lot, crying, stunned by what I heard on the radio.
Johnny Cash - gone. John Ritter - gone.
And, of course, Warren on Sunday.
I used to have a mad crush on John Ritter when I was in elementary school. I was a strange girl even then.
I feel not quite right today.
Not quite right at all.