I don’t think I’ve given Teresa Barrick enough credit as one of my role models. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never underestimated her place in rock and roll history. I just haven’t put her up on the same kind of pedestal that I’ve placed some of the other rock and roll it-girls on, and that’s really not fair because I actually care a lot more about her than I do about most of them.

She's genuine and loving and truly a lifesaver.  She really takes caring for a musician to the next level.  Above all, she was never in it for her own personal gain.  She just had a big heart and opened her arms up wide.

The only pre-1982 information I have about her is that she and her twin sister Lisa sometimes hung out with Johnny Thunders, but I don’t know what that relationship entailed or the extent of her influence on him and the New York scene.

But I can tell you that pretty much every love song Steven Tyler wrote from the ’80s onward was about her, and that really goes to show just how significant and influential she has been. Not to mention she designed most of Steven’s stage clothes.

I also can say with certainty that Aerosmith would not be in this current predicament if she were still Mrs. Tyler. She wouldn’t have let Steven go down this dark road. She would have kept him in line.

On Friday I was in the car and I saw a mom walking down the sidewalk with a little girl, maybe around a year old--I don't know, old enough to walk well but still a tiny little body. The girl was dressed in a purple-pink snowsuit that was so big and puffy her arms and legs stuck out at unnatural angles like that kid from A Christmas Story. She waddled along, hardly able to bend her knees or elbows, and then she saw a big blow-up turkey decoration in somebody's front yard. She stuck her little hand through the fence and waved at it enthusiastically, and it was the cutest thing in the world. I got butterflies in my stomach from the cuteness.

As I thought about it, I realized that I wasn't so excited by a kid interacting with an inanimate object because I wanted a child of my own. The reason it seemed so special to me was because I still feel the same way. I still want to wave at happy-faced turkeys. I've never stopped believing that toys have feelings, and if I don't give them enough love, they'll be sad and lonely. Any time I see a sweet little creature look up at me with its plastic googly eyes, I want so badly to pick it up and squeeze it. I want to make it feel loved. My closet and the attic are filled with my old stuffed animals, and even though they're just taking up space, I can't get rid of them because they'll feel rejected. I can't betray them that way.

Most of the time, I reflect on my childhood and can only recollect how miserable it was. But I miss being friends with anything adorable.

I'm not doing particularly well in school this semester. Actually, I'm not sure if I'm going to get any A's. As much as I'm not the kind of person to fixate on grades, that's kind of depressing because it's never happened to me before. I've always gotten at least two A's on every report card, and almost always more. I guess I'll still be happy as long as I don't get any C's, because that's only acceptable in P.E. class. I just have to make sure I don't lose my scholarship.

If it's not apparent already, I'm a very paranoid person. I worry about everything, all the time. I still check my closet before I go to bed. I get panicky when I drive under bridges. I refuse to ride roller coasters anymore despite the fact that I love them. But right now my biggest worry is travel safety, and since Keith is going to be traveling for work twice a month, I'm probably going to have to give Xanax another shot. So many things can go wrong, and with such a disastrous result. If I have to let the person I love most go away from me out into the big scary world every two weeks, I need to be absolutely assured that nothing bad will come of it.

I can't think about these things anymore.

He said he wants a manly looking locket necklace with a picture of my clitoris inside. So maybe I'll browse for lockets.

Seriously, why is everything due at the same time? I realize that the end of the semester is fast approaching, but these last few weeks are always so brutally busy. I'm not advocating spreading the work out over a longer period of time, because that sounds shitty too. I just think that there should be less work altogether, and therefore, the massive cram at the end of the semester wouldn't be quite as bad.

I've been moody lately, and I'm not exactly sure why. Mostly I think I'm just sick of annoying people bugging me. Keith makes me happy, but he's going to be traveling a lot for his new job so I have to find a way to keep my spirits up when he's not around. On the rare occasion that I'm able to read a book, that makes me feel pretty good too. But it's not possible very often because of my school work.

Next week's agenda:
Finish notebook of historical influences on modern dress
Finish portfolio pages on dyeing, printing, and finishing textiles
Begin huge enormous brand extension project worth a million points
Assemble sewing portfolio and redo a few samples
Bake Amelia a boob-shaped cake
Meet Steven for lunch (?) and receipt of my birthday gift
Meet Amanda for lunch or shopping
Thanksgiving dinner at Jade's house
Start Christmas shopping
Start Christmas craft projects

At least some of those things will be fun. But I still have to learn better time management in order to get everything done. And I must stop procrastinating, even though I'm so good at it.

This distracts me frequently: