janestarz | And she's buying a stairway to heaven

I must have practised that song for over an hour last night just because of it's intricate riff. I love plucking Winston (that's my spanish guitar).

I watched the moon rise last night. Golden and full. I was going for some FRENCH fries (screw diet, screw health, just gimme junkfood), and I saw twinkling stars. The night was dark and the sky looked strange to me. When I turned around (while cycling) I almost screamed "HOLY FUCK!".
A yellow moon, larger than I had ever seen it, rose above the road. The dragon said it was an evil moon, and I agree.

The sun has been looking ill a few days now, since Monday. My mom would call it: "een eng zonnetje" (a scary little sun).

I received a big envelope in the mail last night, from the Moon that lives near 013. Great poster. Memo to me [...] write mail to the moon.

Went to the town this morning to get my new passport. It's so fucking ugly. Big blue stripes, criminal picture and a teeny weeny autograph. Damn. I'll be stuck with it for five years. Cost me a fortune, too.
I also bought two zippers, for a 'snakeskin' skirt and a skyblue gown of Oz' fabric. I am so ready to get all my idea's done but I have a lot of fabric, even more idea's and a tight budget.

Ramón will come over for macaroni tonight. I was hoping to be able to sell Ernest (my electrical guitar, yo...) and trade him in for a new and actually nice-sounding guitar, but Ramón isn't into traintravelling. Wussy.
What else what else? I don't know.

April 1st, Yngwie Johann Malmsteen, 013, Tilburg. Guess who is going?!