What is it about me that attracts strange men to follow from a distance while I stagger along with blistered feet in heels? Must you repeat the same line like a mantra, and must it be such a cheesy line like "Miss, want to be my friend, miss?" Hello, do you really expect me to stop and say yes of course? Urgh.

Maybe friends are right and I should follow suit to check out Tibetian dzi beads. I need hardcore luck.

Oh, on a sidenote.
Starbucks Boy: I've located a friend with a copy of "Mulholland Drive" and I've bullied him into lending it to me. Muahahaha!