Navy Skye: intro no. 2

intro no. 2.. i guess I'm already addicted to Paris.

i get my self esteem from a 7 year old orphan girl i met in Africa last summer. she looked me in the eyes and pointed at the zits on my face and smiled. she said "wow those are such pretty sprinkles, i wish i had those."

i talk about my dead dog too much. it's because that's truly the only experience I've had with death. i layed with her dead body for an hour sobbing. hoping that as my tears slid off my face and landed on hers that she would breathe again. sadly i learned it doesn't work.

i can't whistle or make a taco with my tongue. i also can't wink. i have a double jointed toe though so i tell myself that makes up for it. i also can make a killer goat noise.

i save everything. i saved the grape juice lid from the bottle we drank in our place way up in the canyon.

i saved the red monkey a secret admirer gave to me on 5th grade valentines day.

i kept a rock from the giant mountain of little rocks my cousin and i used to play in and called it "MOUNT ROCKY." we used to have the best imaginations back when we were 6. it's sad because when her family comes over, she doesn't even talk to me anymore. but even if she doesn't i'll always remember
MOUNT ROCKY .
the tree house in my backyard is where my friend and i pretended to be jack and annie in the magic tree house. thank goodness those books were made. they taught me to imagine.

i always end up with 100 seashells after going to the beach. my mom tells me i'm bad at narrowing things down. i just didn't want any of the shells to feel left out.