This hea' entri is a-comin' to you from Noe-th Cahralina.

We's talk purdy dayum suhthun in the say-ouf.

Hun.

Baby-girl.

Sweet thang!

I enjoy the south. Surprisingly. Everyone is so outrageously friendly. Never have so many old ladies called me "hun" in one day. I'm up to 4 or 5 so far, and it's only 3:00.

Nothing much of interest to report, except a strange leaking epidemic in my dorm.

And it's hot. But not sticky-humid-sweat-incuding hot. It's pleasant.

And the school's mascot is the Fighting Pickles. It's mocking the fact that we don't have a sports team of any kind.

This fills me with glee.

I got a shirt. It has a fighting pickle on it.

I wish you could see it.

And there are plenty of sexy individuals of the male persuasion...

A few of them are noticably straight...

A few...

And the rest of them I just want to take me shopping. Because they dress so damn sassy.

But boys are not my main concern. No. Not. At. All.

I'm just window shopping.

Speaking of my main concern, I have an audition I must get to.

I must go get my acting on.

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