I Live In My Own Little World.

Curse False-hand-holding Boys!

I'm A Southern Girl, And I Grew Up With This Slightly Schizophrenic Upbringing Where I Bounced Back And Forth Between Atlanta, Georgia, And A Tiny Mountain Town Called Brevard, North Carolina. My Parents Were Divorced, And My Two Lives Were Very Different Because Of Socioeconomic Reasons.

But You Have To Live In The Present. You Have To Take The Old And Make It New -- That's My Point.

You Have To Be Nicer To Me," I Said. Again He Laughed. "what? I'm The King Of Nice. What Are You Talking About?" "you Have To Be Nicer To Me Or... Or..." "or What?" He Said. Still Lars, Still Charming And Jokey, But With A Thread Of Fear. It Snaked In And Pierced My Numbness And Almost Broke My Resolve. Almost, But Not Quite. "or I Have Ti Break Up With You." I Whispered What Was There More To Say? Nothing. So I Hung Up.

If She Did See, I Hoped She' Be Amazed. Amazed And Thankful, Because Without Even Asking, She'd Received A Genuine Autograph From A Genuine Girl From Atlanta. Not Just Any Girl, But A Girl Who Was, Frankly, A Pretty Big Deal. A Girl Who Was Me.