i am pretty nyc a makeup and beauty site by Kim Weinstein

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State of the Union #2, via FashionTribes

kim | 30 January, 2006 14:50

Lesley, who was kind enough to let me use her groovy office to do Julie's makeup and to take her picture for her upcoming spotlight, was also kind enough to assemble this State of the Union address on fashion week.


Death On the Runway--It's Called Lip Gloss, People

kim | 29 January, 2006 22:33

Makeup for the runway must offer the simplest, clearest bust most of all cohesive way to convey the designer's concept so that the main artist can show the other artists quickly and they can get through as many girls as they need to quickly. Oddly, this season has revealed a new function: how to make women look the most dead in their makeup while they are wearing beautiful garments.

Dior is out of control these days, I think Pat McGrath does it still, and she's the only one (with the exception of Stephane Marais) who could get away with such ugly theatrics. Actually, I think Pat McGrath is doing almost every show, doesn't she rule the runway now? To be clear, if and when I see Pat McGrath, I will fall to my knees and my hands will fall over my head to the ground. I worship this woman. Perhaps she's sort of like DeNiro and Pachino under the mis-management of that guy who directed the awful, "Heat" or Gwyneth and Jessica Lange in that awful mother in law movie. You get my point. Maybe it's not her fault, just bad direction.

Armani just wants you to see the clothes and so Pat--I assume it was Pat because she designed the makeup collection--which is brilliant and one of my favorites--made it all very beigey with dewey, perfect skin. There is no dewey without perfection; you can't have a wrinkle, a blemish or an imperfection on your skin if you're going to annoint it with a reflective substance (unless you're talking about that MAC Sheer Shimmer--but that's shimmer, not shine). Youth rules, again. And so does Pat.

Chanel. Chanel. He is killing his brides over there will pale faces and sheer lavender and hospital green shadow all around their eyes. The corpse bride. Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby in her first trimester? Carmen Kass looks simply embalmed. Have you ever seen those Dior ads where she's dipped in gold?

And Valentino. It's like the 80's Eurotrash PowerBitch who died from a cocaine overdose was exhumed but had not yet removed her makeup.

I mean, come on, people. Women are alive. They are spending money on your garments. Don't kill them. All it takes is a little lip gloss.

At least Lacroix gave us a Grecian goddess. Back to the '80's with the big eyebrows, but modern everywhere else. Don't over pluck, you guys. They don't grow back most of the time.

Elie Saab got a little Roccoco with the hair and simple with the makeup. They didn't have Amazing Concealer back then, either. But we have it now, so...everybody needs concealer. Don't let the illusion of perfection fool you. It doesn't exist past 12. Mkay?

At least Gaultier tried, with the tan faces and the gold liner on the inside and the liquid liner on the outside. No lips, though. They look like tan corspes or alcholics just back from St. Bart's, if they were starring in a stage version of Blade Runner there.

Let's please hope there's a little more blood in New York. You know there's plenty here.






Crack of Elbow Shift

kim | 27 January, 2006 10:24

I love my job. And as much as I want to be with the kid all the time, I love my owrk, too. This morning I met a woman who went to great lengths to advocate for an anonymous child where all the agencies taht should have been helping her were eating a doughnut, sipping on their coffee, reading the newspaper.

I hope today we will all think a little about someone else who is not able to help themselves and give them a little assistance, large or small.

In other news, everybody I am working with today is having a phenomenal hair day, and I just got some free Kiehl's Grapefruit wash and Lavender wash. So that's nice.

Like I said, I love my job.


This Is What I Was Looking For

kim | 25 January, 2006 14:42

Hey, here it is: Julie over at Almost Girl is going to be doing the fashion blogging over there in the tents in Bryant Park. It will be so exciting. I might blog on her commentary, extending my jaded persepective, or I might just deconstruct the makeup like Kristen did on Beauty Addict.

Fashion Week Blogging

kim | 24 January, 2006 19:54

Oh, how I would love to blog from the tents. Can someone get me a pass? If anyone will get in, it's that Beauty Addict who is mysteriously so well connected and beautiful in every way that one would want to be beautiful. But would I really? I could write about how the main makeup artist, whom all the other makeup artists envy, take one girl, sit her on a stool and have the other makeup artists circle around her. The main makeup artist applies the "look" to the "girl" and then it's makeup artists back to their stations. Then all the "girls" wait for the main makeup artist or reluctantly sit down and roll their eyes while the makeup artists do their makeup. They talk on their cellphones in Portuguese or to each other in Eurotrash model or Russian or whatever it is that they speak. And then they go to the bathroom and WIPE IT ALL OFF. Then they star in a GAP ad. Then they drop off the face of the planet. Wait, maybe that's just me.

Amy Sedaris, Where Are You?

kim | 24 January, 2006 14:16

The other day I ran across some old Strangers With Candy re-runs and I was floored at their relentless funniness. I have almost never seen anything so funny. I loved it when it came out, I just wanted to be near Amy Sedaris, to assist her, to hang out with her, to have some of her funny rub off on me. Gerri Blank is the world's ugliest heroines and yet you can't stop looking at her because everything she says makes you want to pee in your pants. For those of you who have had children, I know it's easier for you.

I want to interview her for my Spotlight Page. Anyone have any leads?


Amy Sedaris, Where Are You?

kim | 24 January, 2006 14:16

The other day I ran across some old Strangers With Candy re-runs and I was floored at their relentless funniness. I have almost never seen anything so funny. I loved it when it came out, I just wanted to be near Amy Sedaris, to assist her, to hang out with her, to have some of her funny rub off on me. Gerri Blank is the world's ugliest heroines and yet you can't stop looking at her because everything she says makes you want to pee in your pants. For those of you who have had children, I know it's easier for you.

I want to interview her for my Spotlight Page. Anyone have any leads?


Floating on a Blue Frosted Cloud with a Thomas Moving Cake Topper

kim | 23 January, 2006 13:20

Yesterday was the kid's second birthday. There was so much happiness and fun, they had to drag the kids out while they clawed the doorposts. Now that's big fun.

PPL

kim | 22 January, 2006 11:43

I got this comment, which I will partially post, on the Angelina Jolie post and on the Post Office post by the same author,

and leave ppl you dont know and dont understand alone.....

you look at goths like me and laugh
but in all honesty we are laughing at you.....

Let me first say that if you think the celebrity magazine industry is built by people who want to stalk the stars, you are wrong. There is a whole Agent/Manager/Publicist/PR person team that formulates a plan and attacks these glossies begging to get them in these magazines. Now the beast is taming the master and the paparazzi and the amateur with a camera phone are all up in the star's steeze and there's not alot they can do about it, but if you think it's easy to get into a magazine you are sadly mistaken. All that press about Brangelina is driven by their PR people or is an outgrowth of a deal they made with the devil a long, long time ago. So if Brangelina wants to portray themselves as a heartbreaker in the theater of the public, then I'm going to react. But it was designed by them. That's why I, personally, don't understand them--not because they steal each other's mates, because that's a story old as time, but I don't understand how they would want to publicize themselves as such and put their adopted and unborn babies out there.

Second, I would never laugh at a goth. They are at least color coordinated and totally into the dark, brooding side of things, which is what I am into. I used to have black hair but it was unintentional. You see, my hair is shockingly gray for my age and I used to color it from a box that I got in the drugstore for $8 and over time I was walking around with a long, black mane. Enter Kirsti at Amour de Hair who now gives me a rich base color but also some caramel low lights and I'm sort of back to where I started before all of this gray business happened. But I did sport black hair for about two years, so can I be an honorary goth? I love people on the fringe, or people who think they are or hope to be, because that's how I see myself, too. I really am an outsider, fitting in nowhere. Aesthetically, the goth thing makes sense, it's cohesive, it follows some basic rules and then the participants are free to express themselves within the context of those rules. Like a sestina, if you will. So I have never laughed at a goth, and even saw the goth poser Marilyn Manson in concert once and his big, cellulite tushy and I enjoyed it! (Probably because I like old school rock and roll, and that's what it was at the time). So it's not alternatives I'm opposed to, it's unintentionally badly shaped eyebrows when everything else is in place and it's red hair against an olive skin without matching eyebrows. It's just not flattering.

I didn't mean to insult you. Is PPL a text message thing? I'm very behind the times. Oh, and an elipsis--this can not be overstated---has only three dots.



Can You Tell Me Why...

kim | 20 January, 2006 10:59

I care so much about the Brangelina Baby, how mean girls always win and how Jennifer Anniston is probably a mess right now. Do you think it has to do with the fact that I am not able to engage in reading or writing a book right now because my committments are forcing my attentions elsewhere? Do you think it's because I'm more like Jennifer Anniston--self-effacing and prone to a crying jag than Angelina--anorexic, self-possessed and a vixen? Do you think it's because I'm a loser and I need to get a life?

Project Runway - Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before

kim | 18 January, 2006 23:40

Tonight Mike asked me why I liked Project Runway so much. Not to challenge me but because he's interested in the way I think. Which is kind of nice. I told him that the designers are forced to make ridiculous garments (like the one for the "celebrity" Nicky Hilton, who has never exposed her vagina so I don't know how you can call her famous but whatever) under a terrific time pressure, but they are based on math and creativity and offer a tangible product. Not like some of the other shows where they get a bunch of people together to piss in the wind and get to the finish line. I suppose this is why people loved The Amazing Race so much. I watched it once and people were waiting around in the snow at 5:00 in the morning and I just couldn't support that kind of humiliation. Which brings me to my next point. Michael Kors can be bitchy sometimes but only every once in a while. I'm sure he says so much more off camera that they can't put in. Notice how choppy those conversations with the judges are edited together? Anyway. Mostly he's respectful and I hope to be a client of his one day because he's a genius. Hi Michael, if you're reading! I do adore you, but you can't help yourself sometimes, no? Me neither. So there's a little humiliation--I can't imagine being publicly shamed by Michael Kors. Shopping for fabric in skating outfits notwithstanding.? But that Heide Klum, that little German accent adds gravitas to her spritely little baby voice, and it also adds a measure of respect. She "ins" and "outs" people with the same measure of politeness and friendliness, which makes the whole process dramatic, and not humiliating. Actually, she acheives what Oliver Stone has almost never been able to--trust the intelligence of her audience.

Not that I'm calling myself so smart. I just love the show.


Excuse Me, Ma'am? Post Office Edition

kim | 18 January, 2006 14:02

You are so pretty and clearly know it by your superior posture. Why do your eyebrows look like paisleys?

You are four feet tall and four feet wide. Why wear all white? And cover it with a clear plastic poncho? And dye your hair copper penny red but do nothing for your eyebrows or your moustache? I can see your bunions pushing through those Addias.

Can you shut the F up about the post office while we're standinng on line and everyone behind the counter is gossiping? Yes, they are lazy, you pointing it out for 17 minutes does not help. Plus, you need to do your roots. You can gossip about people after you do your job perfectly and you do your own roots.

Thank you.


Not As Hostile

kim | 18 January, 2006 08:07

I feel better this morning. I am going to call a local hair cutting joint and see what they can do for my '80's Long Island 'do. Nothing against Long Island.


I'm Hostile

kim | 17 January, 2006 13:02

I am. I really need everyone who can muster it up to send me soothing vibes. I'm having a bad day. Thank you.

Golden Globes

kim | 17 January, 2006 08:32

Okay, I didn't watch the first part because we are still in the middle of sleep training but, holy blue eyeshadow Bat Man, what the hell were those L'Oreal ads. They did market research on those? And the mascara ad? I've never seen one without false lashes. These were crunched into the lashline and well curled, but still. And why does Melanie Griffith keep getting invited and why did she look so over it when Hillary Swank stepped on stage?

Comment Spam

kim | 16 January, 2006 14:07

My comment spam is like herpes--I just can't get rid of it. I've got these jerks spewing my site every day. It's such a time-waster. But what I am curious about is:

1) Really, who uses Cialis? People actually do?
2) If your genetalia isn't working, do you think it's best to pump it up with chemicals? Really? I think it's a deeper problem.
3) Did they over-manufacture these drugs and sell them to enterprising but jerky losers on the internet?
4) Do these people think that spamming my BEAUTY website that men with ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION will sign up for their questionable pharmaceutical?
5) Who would purchase their erection medicine from a website anyway? Don't you need a perscription for that?
6) If you can't afford a doctor, then how can you afford to shell out big bucks for fake medicine?
7) Come on, you know it's not real medicine. It's probably a combination of cake sprinkles, rat poison and Crystal light. Perhaps some confectioner's sugar, too.

Please, please stop spamming my site. Thank you.


Thank You De-Lurkers!

kim | 15 January, 2006 21:45

Okay, I guess I'm no Alice Bradley with her 300 comments, but I appreciated and loved every comment I got! Thank you. I guess I need to respond to a few, which I will, I've just not had a minute.

I really think I'm on to something here. Skincare takes place from the inside out. So, what I am going to do is I am going to lose the 15 lbs., get rid of most of the cheese, most of the wheat, get the kid on track with his diet and get to pre-pregnancy organic macro fishatarian. It's so much harder to eat that way, but so much better for you. My cholesteral is elevated and that's gross. And I want to make it at least till the kid's 18 and I want to give him a sibling, probably a brother. Just a feeling I have. So it's still early in the year, and I have time. It's all about self love, and you can't emulsify that and put it in a jar. It belongs to the Universe, to the Greater Intelligence, to You Know Who and it's just all around you in the air waiting for you to breathe it in.


Can You Work?

kim | 14 January, 2006 09:30

It was 3:48 am. Yes, of course. I know the makeup artist who was in the car accident.?I used to work with her behind the counter?in a department store.?She had the name of an 80 year old lady and dow she has turned it into an ethnic last name which sounds very exotic. My memory is shot, and so I knew something wasn't right, but it just snapped in this morning. I'm all for makeovers. I'll keep your secret, Olive (name has been changed to protect the upwardly mobile).

I called for a car immediately and grabbed some pants on the floor. I didn't realize that they were stained until I got to work. My hair looked like a rusty, used?brillo pad. I brought my makeup just in case and I snagged some makeup that I promised someone who was actually, coincidentally, going to be on the show. Saves me a stamp, but totally random.

I get to the studio and I have to work with one of my least favorite co-workers. I always make a point of going in a different room because a) the person does not understand the concept of peace and quiet and b) that person is creepy. So I get a little bitchy. I do the makeup. I get the hugs. My throat is as dry as a nail file. I'm hurting. But I can't say no.

I'm happy to see the person I coincidentally see, we have a nice chat and that person introduces me to someone whose work Iadmire. It's funny working where I used to work all the time. This place was like my full time job and I didn't have enough distance from it to get the full lay of the land. But I do now.

I used to go to work in my sweatpants. I was not respectful at all. Now I like to show up for work with full respect in attitude, physicality and all. Wow, that was the worst sentence I ever wrote. YOU KNOW WHAT? THIS IS AN EMAIL, REALLY, NOT A BLOG ENTRY. Bear with me. But today it was not my choice to look like shit because I was told they were going on the air at 5:00. It feels really bad to look like crap amidst beatufiul people. I know most of them, so they don't seem to mind, but I would rather just be an adult with my crisp work ethic.

I can't wait to take a nap.


Beauty Emergency

kim | 14 January, 2006 07:08

Last night I finished a script with a friend to submit to a contest. I was amped up and could not sleep until 2:00. At 3:48 the phone rang. Truly, I thought, Oh God, it's another Junior High School person, drunk and greiving--leave me alone in the middle of the night! But it was work. One of my crack of ass shifts was calling: the makeup artist got into a car accident, could I go in? I was totally groggy, trying to get my bearings, and then I agreed.

I am so tired, I will finish telling you later, seriously, I'm falling asleep.


Corner Office Beauty

kim | 11 January, 2006 23:06

Some time in the last millenium, the nice--and funny and sweet and generous--folks at Corner Office Beauty sent me a few things: their Transition Man Soap and their Ball Buster hand cream. Now, if you like verbena, you'll like the way these smell. The soap, I could not get enough of and it's perfectly ergonomically shaped: an oval, more perfect for the hand than any other soap, truly. And the hand cream, which I need ALL THE TIME, was amazing, soaked right in and was delicious.

I can only say sorry to the girls over there for not doing this sooner, for I've been writing my novel--which they've been very encouraging about, so I'm sorry. They are not based in New York, but their products are made in the USA and I'm all for that. I'm going to try to find products that are made here to support us all here. You know, the Wal-Mart conundrum and all.

So, ladies, thank you. And please try these products. They are truly delicious. And super-funny.


De-Lurk, baby

kim | 11 January, 2006 23:00

Hey, you know what? I write for me, but I also write for you. That's what makes blogging so much fun, conceptually, you write it and people talk to you. The end of isolation for writers, right? Not over here. One day I got 7,800 hits and no comments. No comments. I get about 1,500 people coming every day and only a few? people ever comment. I've tried everything to bring you wall flowers out, but over at Finslippy, I found out out that it is International De-Lurking Week. Now, I am not even asking to be nominated for the the Bloggies, I'm just asking you to say a little howdy. Or as we say in New York, hi, hello. Hello!

Fashion Don'ts That Make Me Crazy

kim | 11 January, 2006 21:40

The Manolo asks, what are the fashion "don'ts" that make me crazy? I will answer this slightly sideways, because I am slightly sideways. Let's say that the beauty industry says don't be without these items, it is boolsheet:

You probably don't need foundation. What a waste for so many women! Just use the right concealer under your eyes and around your nose. Blend well, voila!
Stop curling? your eyelashes if they are just going to look like check marks.
Stop putting eyeliner under your lashes-especially liquid liner!-and nothing on your top lashes. Just don't wear it, for cripe's sake.
Stop spending so much on skincare and get more sleep, eat better and exercize more. Your skin will improve.
Why the F are you wearing bronzer all over your face and your neck and arms are all white? Huh? Whitey?
You are not Beyonce, Gwyneth or J.Lo. It's okay to be you, you're pretty. Just love yourself and read a good book already.


Paris at Duane's?

kim | 10 January, 2006 21:45

While on my way to getting my new camera, which was generously funded by my in laws and her mother (my favorite Nana, and not just because of that) I popped into Duane Reade. Ooph, I needed a tissue. The tail end of this cold has a long, tail. Like a friggin' Diplodocus carnegii. It's bogus. So I'm in this shmancy Duane's and I see this new display of the Vichy line and something else all Frenchy. This is the kind of stuff they have in those little, tiny pharmacies in Frahnce with those little green plus signs. You know, the untouchable stuff. But you know what? It's loaded with chemicals and mineral oil. Yuck. It still makes me feel like, if I try it, I will be like a fancy, nay, a regular French woman--who is already so much more sophisticated then I will ever be. Should I try it? Maybe I will just stick with my homeopathic Greek Korres and my aromatheraputic Decleor.

I might, though. Did you see those gorgeous displays?


Happiness is the New Botox

kim | 09 January, 2006 21:37

Two things that came out of this funeral: gratitude for my life today and happiness at the re-connecting of old connections. Why, I got the sweetest emails today from Ruben and Robin (PS 40 and 104's in the house, yo!) and I can't believe the love and happiness that has welled up in my heart.

At the funeral someone told me I did not age one bit, that I looked exactly the same. I was looking at some pictures of myself when I was eleven, and he was right. Although now I dye my hair to look the same as it was and if you get me in the wrong light (meaning when I am not walking around with a photographer's light reflecting disk underneath my chin, which is always) I'm pretty jowley. Is that a word? Okay, saggy. My face is saggy. But I'm happy, so I smile alot and that raises everything right up again. And when you're beaming, people don't have time to look at your imperfections.

So smile and be grateful for what is great in your life and you won't have to get injected by Patricia Wexler. Oiysh. Like you want her working on you? Scary.


2006 Forecast: Blue - For the Manolo

kim | 07 January, 2006 12:52

Blue is no doubt going to be the color of 2006.

Iraqui women, inspired by their new right to vote might throw off their chardors and don beautiful, jewelled shades of indigo skirt suits, pant suits and dresses to match their new found freedom. Hearing the news, the women of Afganistan will throw off their burkhas creating a huge swirl of periwinkle across the mountains. They will send their burkhas to Darfur, where the women there will be able to fashion a pulley-assembly system to help them get water five miles away from their refugee camps and perhaps even create a netting system to capture bandits and rapists that lie in wait for them as they go to get their most essential source.

Chinese women will start to question if their best interests are being served and will begin to wear blue silk belts in opposition to their government's treatment of women and girls, especially newborn ones.

Pakistan will get the message and the whole country will no longer tolerate so called "honor killings" and the men convicted of these heinous acts will be sentenced to prison wearing blue coveralls.

The blue tarps that are now covering all the roofs in New Orleans will inspire all Americans to help each other and Estee Lauder will come out with a new fragrance: Blue, with 100% of the proceeds going to disasters around the United States and when they're done, the proceeds will go toward solving the poverty problem.

Tom Ford will have been studying the situation the whole time and declare, "Blue is the new black" and create a limited edition cosmetics line of blues, blacks and silvers, which is very, very sexy but ultimately unwearable by anyone over 17 or 100 lbs. The ad campaign, or "story", for the look will be Carolyn Murphy posing as a Betty Page-esque soft-porn model in faux old stag or "blue" movies.


Funeral Makeup

kim | 03 January, 2006 22:04

This funeral is going to be like the remains of Caligula. All the boys and girls from Junior High School and High School--I dare you to find two spaces between people who had not coupled. It was a wild time. A time of pot seeds rolling down album covers, a time of parent-cabinet-stolen white russians, a time of snorting cocaine for the first time right before dance class in the downstairs girl's bathroom. Don't get me started on the make-out parties.You know who you are. Don't act all prissy with me.

I am keeping the kid in a cage until he is 23.

So what kind of makeup do you wear? You must look put together but not overdone. Effortlessly natural. Believe me, these people are not going to show up at my funeral, this is probably the last time I am going to see them. With any luck, anyway. This is her funeral. Every boy that worshiped at her altar will be there. They all better be there. I don't even want to go, to be honest with you. I'd rather just live in my normal, boring life and dispense with the past. I do every time I am invited. But funerals are for the living. I am going for her parents, for her sisters and for the friends who loved her dearly. And for her, for everything she was and did not know and everything she could have been. J.M., you are sadly, sadly missed.

The day I found out, I happened to have a playdate with the kid in my old neighborhood. I walked by my Junior High School and peered into the alley way where all of us used to meet to cut school or where we would all congregate and smoke cigarettes. It is a small passageway locked by a gated fence. I was holding the kid (I didn't take the stroller and he didn't want to walk) and he said "Open the gates! Open the gates!" and I thought of my friend and I looked up, and I made the request, "yes, please open the gates and let her in." I'm sure she's resting there now.


New Year, New Wrinkles

kim | 02 January, 2006 21:50

Since I am now officially anti-mineral oil--yes, I am--I am going to need a new moisturizer. I mean, since it's winter. I'm mos def switching to the Caudelie cleansing bar I mentioned in my article, am using the Korres eye cream and going out and getting some Decleor moisturizer right away. It's so dry. I'm really seeing my age and lack of sleep. Today I am grateful to be alive.

The Death of My Youth and Beauty II

kim | 02 January, 2006 09:12

I guess what I mean to say is that this girl was beautiful. It was inconceivable when you looked at her how beautiful and it gave her such power. This was when beauty meant something. When everbody was mostly ugly and hairy with crooked, yellow teeth. Before plastic surgery with which you can purchase the power of good looks, before trainers where average girls can turn themselves into knockouts, and before even highlights--sun in was the order of the day. She was a natural and seemed like the gods had blessed her, which they had. And now she is gone. I'm sure they make more of them, or you could make yourself into her if you paid enough, but she was the real thing, the Helen of my public junior high school.

The Death of My Youth and Beauty

kim | 01 January, 2006 20:26

This evening I got a phone call from an old friend who never calls me--I knew that someone had died. I knew who that someone was, too. She was the most beautiful, most sought after, most mysterious girl from Junior High School. She modeled. She hung out with older guys. She was fearless. She was not a virgin when I met her, I think, and I met her when we were 12. She overshadowed my most important male relationships: Carl Schoote liked her and I liked him. I wrote as much on the bathroom wall at the St. Mark's Theater, way before they tore it down and replaced it with a GAP. When you could not only smoke in there, but smoke pot in there, too and nobody would say anything. Never mind that you were 12. As well as my most complicated high school relationship, which wasn't a relationship at all but a string of nights, over the course of five years, of me following someone who loved to walk all over me. He was constantly comparing me to her, and I felt her perfect, blonde spectre looming over me at all times. I was not her and would never be her.

I heard a few years ago that she had a drug problem. You know, the drug problem. The one they write books and movies and songs about. Very romantic. I heard she had become skeletal. That across her beautiful, perfect body, there were now uneven practice tatoos that her boyfriend, an aspiring tatoo artist had scratched all over her. She was difficult in public and people gave up on her and stopped inviting her to come around and actually asked her to stop coming around.

We all had pretty rough childhoods. That's why, I think, we all ended up together. So why did I make it and she didn't, when she had so much more going for her than I had going for me? I am so sad tonight. She is the first one to go. I was nothing to her everything and I here I sit with my husband and my son and my computer, writing, living, breathing. It makes no sense at all. But I am grateful to be alive. And I pray that she is now in peace.



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