Rest in Peace


Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket Ms. Tigger and I on the happiest day...
Sunday, February 29, 2004
I must say that my prediction was right. Sean Penn aka Jeff Spicoli won the Oscar for best male actor. Is that awesome or what? I thought that it should have gone to Sean or Bill Murray, but after seeing Sean in Mystic River, I definitely thought he earned it. This was like his fourth or fifth nomination or something like that. Oh well, I'm glad that he finally won. He is like a totally awesome actor, but to me, he'll always be seen as Jeff Spicoli and that's totally knarly dude. It's not bogus at all.

Sean Penn is on my list of beautiful men that I'd love to play naked twister with. I'll list the rest soon, but right now, I'm Ambien bound for a good night's sleep.

  Will Spicoli Win The Oscar? I bet no one ever thought those words would've been said 20yrs ago.
I can’t sleep. I took an Ambien, but it has yet to kick in. I’m just not sleepy. I feel like going out or something. Unfortunately, it’s a little late and our late night bar closes at 4am which is in five minutes. Oh well!! I’m afraid that I’m becoming an insomniac again. It is torture when you desperately want to go to sleep, but you can’t. I’ve been bitchy to everyone. I guess that this tooth ache isn’t helping much either.

I soo want to go to sleep tonight. I want sweet dreams. Oh my God, the other night when I could sleep; I had the bestest dream ever. I dreamed that I was back in the 80’s and was dating the love of my young life, Alex P. Keaton, of course. Dare you ask! We went on a camping trip with his entire family and it was amazing. Amazing making out with A.P.K. I know this is crazy, but I still have a crush on him after all of these years. He’s such a cutie!!

Once I got a little older and was able to watch more TV; I watched Fast Times at Ridgemont High. That is where I met the man that I wanted to marry or someone just like him and his name was Jeff Spicoli. I was in wuv. He was the meaning of the cool cute guy, to me. I own that movie and it’s funny to look back at it now and laugh about how in wuv I was.

I didn’t get to marry Spicoli, but I’ve dated my fair share of them. They weren’t as cool as he made them seem in the movie. To this day, I still think that Sean Penn is damn sexy. He’s not Hugh sexy, but close. Hey, he married Madonna and that’s totally knarly!!!

Going to smoke a little Spicoli and see if I can go to sleep. Good night or shall I say good morning?
Friday, February 27, 2004
  Always On My Mind
I just got out of my loooong bath. It was grrrreat, thanks for asking. I must say that there is NO unwanted hair on my body and my skin is baby ass soft. (It always is, unless I’m, well unless I’m confined to the bed.) My hair is so super clean and I smell really good. Always do! I feel purdy. I was all ready to hop onto my “Precious” and do an entry when Real Time with Bill Maher came on; so I had to watch. It is on of the few shows that I do try to watch weekly. I’m not particularly fond of Bill, but he has really interesting guests and they always talk about what I want to hear. I feel as if I’m among intelligent people instead of being among an intelligent cat.

I told you earlier that I had sooo many ideas in my head, so I’m just going to vent and make no sense what so ever! “Ok.”

Bill was talking to Ralph Nader about the upcoming election. Bill said that he voted for Nader last time and would like to again. (I voted for Gore because I wanted my vote to count.) I like Nader and would love to see a miracle where he wins this election, but we all know that there is not a damn chance in hell that he will. He needs to get with John Kerry and try to run with him as his VP. To me, a vote for Nader, (bless his heart) is a vote for Bush. I’ve yet to see a man that sincerely cares so much about the important things like our environment, social security, drug plans, etc. He needs to put his intelligence to good use. TALK TO KERRY! MAKE A DIFFERENCE! By the way, Happy 70th Birthday Mr. Nader!

Ian McKellen was a guest tonight. He is an openly gay man. Horray for Gandalf, Magneto, I mean Ian!!! I love this man as a person and as an actor. He never seems to be afraid to approach any subject. You'd have never seen a grown man "come out" in the Hollywood world back in the days of Rock Hudson. In ways, we have come a long way, but in some, we've taken no steps at all. I'm ready for the day that it simply doesn't matter. (Though I'm sure that I'll never see that day because I'm sure as long as there is a world, then there will be hate, and with hate, there will be stupidity.) The topic quickly turned to The Passion.

I’m so sick of hearing about this damn movie. (Although, I can say that Mel could not pay Samantha Jones for better PR, opening on Ash Wed. Outstanding!!) I want to see it because I went to Catholic school FOREVER. I find myself curious like a cat to see what all of the hype is about. I like that it is in Latin, I took Latin for years. I can’t tell you a damn thing about it (well, some) but, I took it. I feel that I should see this movie where I can properly comment on it. Besides, it’s in subtitles and I love subtitles. You bet your ass that I’ll definitely be commenting later. I’ll see it soon. I’m Catholic, but haven’t been to church in a while. I used to go every Sunday alone, but for some odd reason; I don’t like to go alone anymore. I just hope that Mel does something good with the money that he makes from this movie. I disagree with money being made from someone else’s suffering and pain, especially Jesus Christ.

Gay Marriage: This is just damn stupid! WTF? President Bush is a fucking idiot. The Constitution should have nothing to do with this. A union is in the eyes of the church. It should be decided by the church, not our stupid ass president. I think W is picking on the most defenseless group of people that he can because there is an upcoming election. (I.e. gay people-They are such an easy and bullshit target.) What are next, people with a mental disability shouldn’t be allowed to marry or vote. (That would take away my rights because; I’m (CRAZY!!)God, he (W) makes me sick, literally. I hate him. I’m not a person with hate in my heart, this man, I hate. These couples need this (marriage) for their insurance, a sense of family, and because they deserve it. (Hell, I know that I would have no insurance if it weren’t for the other half.)

It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if we “just happened” to catch Bin Laden a few weeks before the election take place. How convenient that would be! Bush would get that “man I didn’t know who to vote for, but now that he’s caught Bin Laden; I’m voting for him. I think he’s the most awesome man alive”. This scares me and seriously makes me want to move away from this crazy ass country before men start wearing holsters and walking the streets killing because they can. I could see it now:

Person a: Why did you kill that man?

Person b: Because that nigger/Mexican was looking at me funny.

Yes, he was looking at you funny; because you’re wearing a fucking holster, you God damn idiot!!!

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about moving to an island after I finish nursing school. Maybe the Bahamas, (b/c I love it there.) the Caribbean, Jamaica, etc. People are sick everywhere and nurses are always needed. Hell, if I were lucky, (which I’m not) I could get a job working at a resort and just live in paradise year round. I think this is a damn good idea. Why not? What do I have to loose? My family would be so far away, but what a wonderful place to visit.

My pain medication is starting to kick in. Needless to say, I’m feeling no pain. I feel quite groovy actually. (This feeling reminds me of the good ole days of care free drug use.) We didn’t take drugs because we were hurting; we took them to feel good. Oh, how I long for the good ole days. I guess that we all have to grow up sometime.

Life goes by so very fast, if you don’t stop to look at it, you may miss out on something amazing!!!

I’ve got to go to La. on wed. After my appointment with Dr. MM. I’ve got business to take care of that this damn tooth is interrupting. “Quit it, you painful ass tooth. I never asked for you to grow there and start hurting. It’s your entire fault!”

I haven’t been “home”, well not home, but where I was born and raised in a while. It will be nice to see my brother, my cousin, and a handful of friends. I wouldn’t be going if I didn’t have to, trust me.

To my dear honey pie, PS, umm, umm, that stir fry baby that you prepared tonight was FAB-OOO-LUS!!!

  Miss Me?
I've been laid up all week with this damn tooth ache. I just took my pain medicine; so I should be coherent for the next four hours. I've had so many things on my mind lately that I've had trouble catching them and making them into one complete thought. (If that makes any sense.)

I'm fixing to go take a long bubble bath (while I can safely shave my legs) and try to gather my thoughts. I'll be back with a "real entry" in a few hours. To all of my adoring fans out there, I'm sorry that I've not been posting lately. It's just hard to do when you are seeing double, if you see at all.

Back in a few, guys, have a martini while I'm gone and await my return!!!
  Miss Me
I've been laid up all week with this damn tooth ache. I just took my pain medicine; so I should be coherent for the next four hours. I've had so many things on my mind lately that I've had trouble catching them and making them into one complete thought. (If that makes any sense.)

I'm fixing to go take a long bubble bath (while I can safely shave my legs) and try to gather my thoughts. I'll be back with a "real entry" in a few hours. To all of my adoring fans out there, I'm sorry that I've not been posting lately. It's just hard to do when you are seeing double, if you see at all.

Back in a few, guys, have a martini while I'm gone and await my return!!!
Monday, February 23, 2004
  Use Caution While Operating Heavy Machinery
I just wanted to do a little update. I’ve been drugged up for the last few days. Lorcet makes me act VERY strange. I was on the phone with PS and he told me that I told him that I needed a chocolate pudding IV and then proceeded to tell him all about my love for Cheese Whiz. (Which I hate passionately) BM told me that I told him EVERY thing that I hated about him and was meaner than I’d ever been in the past ten years. (This I find hard to believe, because I can be a real bitch.) Anyway, BM, I’m sorry that I said mean things to you. I guess pain medication brings out the devil in me and she talks in slurred speech.

The source of my pain is this damn tooth that I’ve been messing around with for about a year. I had a root canal and my dentist put that fake cement shit on it temporarily until I can come back for my crown, well I haven’t been back. I was supposed to have it put on in April. Y’all, it’s almost freaking March and my dumb ass is suffering for my stupidity as we speak. I was brushing my teeth and this white thing came out that wasn’t part of my tooth. I couldn’t figure out where it came from until I started hurting about an hour later. It seems my temporarily shit is falling out and I need to go to the dentist quick!!

I had to cancel plans to go to La. I have not been able to get any of my little things accomplished like get my tire fixed. I’ve been too messed up to talk on the phone; much less drive. I just took some pain medicine, but I don’t feel crazy yet. It usually takes about four hours then BAM!! I start acting like a lunatic. The average person would just go to sleep and sleep for days on this shit, but not me. I actually get hyper. I found myself in the bathroom the other night curling what is left of my hair (I got like 6 inches cut off!) and putting on make-up. I wasn’t putting on make-up like a normal person. I was putting on make-up like I was on my way to the “Let’s look like a six year old did our make-up contest.”

I had the biggest sexiest hair that I’d ever had. (That’s big because I can get this mop pretty high up there.) I had on baby blue eye shadow, pink lipstick, and my cheeks looked like Bozo himself came over to help me. I looked like I came straight out of 1984. I then put on an evening gown that I haven’t worn in at least ten years and paraded around the apartment like I was Miss America. I quickly lost the whole “Like a Virgin” mood and went into “Robert Smith” mode. I didn’t wash off my old make-up; I just started over on the same canvas. I put on black eye shadow, made my eyebrows VERY dark, put on thick black eyeliner, and then outlined my lips with my black eyeliner and filled in the space with the reddest lipstick that I’ve ever seen. (I don’t even think a hooker would go this red.) Then I proceeded to make the hair look just like Robert Smith’s hair. This made me very proud. I took off the dress and put on an all black outfit that Marilyn Manson would run from.

Imagine my embarrassment when I stepped outside on the patio to smoke a cigarette and my neighbor walked by. I tried to hide, but couldn’t. She said, “I like your hair cut.” I tried to explain that I was on pain medication and playing “dress up” sounded like an amazing idea a few hours ago. After she stood there and stared at me like I had escaped the mental ward of the hospital, I said “fuck it”. I’ve had the tooth ache from hell when I was all normal and “pretty”. Now I’m feeling no pain and yes, I do look crazy. What’s your excuse?
Friday, February 20, 2004
  Going Down The Road Feeling Bad...
This entry is just a few random thoughts that are spinning around in my head so here goes:

I fell like I've turned out to be a lonely person, and I'm o.k. with that.

I'm getting to the point that I don't even want to leave the house.

I've just be laying in the bed while being pathetic. (I do up to get a Dr. Pepper and to pee. Yes, and make coffee ALL day long.)

Once again, I'll ask the famous question: Are we (as humans) truly meant to be happy? I'm almost 30 years old and I don't "really".
I've just been really depressed lately. I miss my "father" and my best "friend".

God! You know that I told you that the medication was making me not give a shit. I'm kind of glad about that. I still just haging aroud my family and PS. I want someone who is worthy of me, because if you read on you'll find out that ("I'm the nicest fucking persom that I know.")
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
  Sweet Dreams Can Come True
Dreams are like fantasies that only when you close your eyes, you can see.
That happiness and wonderful beauty meant so long, to be seen, by you and me.
We may have thought it never possible, but I guess that everyone gets a taste.
A taste of dreams that are like fantasies that when you close your eyes you truly see.

If you believe, believe in your dreams you’ll never have to close your eyes again.
Just believe in your heart because everyone deserves their moment of happiness in the end.

**There are many forms of love. For instance, the love between friends or the love between a mother and a child can totally outweigh this so called “love” from strangers that so many of us adults are constantly craving. I KNOW love today!!**
Saturday, February 14, 2004
  Family Ties
I guess that the Wellbutrin is starting to take effect because I’m starting to “feel”. I’m such a fucking unhappy person. I’m finding that my anxiety is crazy lately. I don’t think that I’m going to be happy with anyone or myself until I start loving my inner self. Right now, I don’t, but I’m starting to.

I’m just here today with entirely too many thoughts going on in my head. AHHHH!!!!
There’s the Hearts against Aids thing that I’d like to go to tonight, but…
I need to get my tires fixed.
I need a new windshield and that scratch on my passenger door needs to be fixed.
I new a new top put on my car. (This leaking shit EVERY time it rains sucks!!)
I new a new job, BAD!!
I need to go on a shopping spree. Soon!
I need some stability.
Tigger needs stability.
I need to get online and check out plain tickets and hotel prices. Too much!!

You’d think that I had the pressures of curing cancer on my mind or something.

I’ve been thinking about my age more than usual lately. I’ll be 28 on March 11th. That’s only two years from thirty. (Not that I think that thirty is old, because I don’t.) Thinking back, I thought that I’d be living an entirely different life than I am. I should be an RN by now. I thought that I’d be married to the love of my life (or at least know him) by now. I thought that I’d have children by now. I always wanted my first before I was thirty, maybe even two.

Of course, I’ll have my son first. (You know ‘cause it’s like Burger King and you can have it your way.) Then I’d have my daughter. They’d be the most gorgeous children that I’ve ever seen. They would be the product of the parent’s undying love for each other. (I can’t even express the feeling that I get just thinking about them.) The older brother would be there to look out for his younger sister. I know that she’s going to hate it, but Mommy’s going to love it!! (Not too many guys want to date their friend’s little sister. Ha! Sorry Darling!)

I just don’t see me ever having the “happy little family” that I’ve always dreamed of. I guess that since my childhood was so fucked; I’ve always wanted that “normal” happy family. You know one where the parents are cool. (They truly love each other and have the exact same goals when it comes to love, life, and happiness. You know, kind of like Steven and Elyse Keaton from Family Ties. (You know they were taking bhong hits upstairs right?) We will never get a d-i-v-o-r-c-e. Our children would be perfect. I know that everyone says that, but ours would be. They’d be smart, beautiful, athletic, and intellectual. They’re everything to me/us.

I used to even have their names picked out for them. I imagined us in the cutest house with my big front porch with the swing. Being the green thumb that I am, we have beautiful flowers everywhere outside. (There are so many flowers that you can barely see the grass.) I have my tulip garden and every color of flower that you could ever imagine. (The neighbors only wish that their yard looked as good as ours!)

Get this, my husband like to garden too. We love to wake up early (or not) on Sundays. After we have grrrreat sex, (We tend to have better sex in the morning for some reason.) he then starts a pot of coffee. After we’ve lay in bed and smoked a little (hey, it’s Sunday, a day to relax.) while having our first cup of coffee. I get up and start breakfast while starring out the window at all of my birds, eating from their many feeders in the yard. (I always have quite a gathering.) My husband reads the paper while discussing the current events with me. We enjoy our breakfast and start our day. I’m fortunate because today instead of working on his second book; he’s going to play outside with me.

We then smoke and go outside and smoke our cigarettes drink plenty of water, and play in the garden while wearing that lovely straw hat with my cute little garden gloves. He helps me get the weeds out and see if any of the plants need to be replaced. A couple of hours before the sun goes down; we sit on our front porch and admire our work while enjoying a cigarette and a glass of wine. I wouldn’t even call it work; I’d just call it good quality time spent with the one you love.

It’s now time to go inside and get cleaned up. What better way than a bubble bath for two? We have dinner while listening to an assortment of music. (Between the two of us, we pretty much like everything.) When it’s time for bed, I (or we) wash my face, brush my teeth, moisturize, and hop into bed. Knowing that we’re going to wake up in the morning and have some fucking wonderful fucking doesn’t stop us from attempting to having a little before bed. We snuggle up to each other and sleep soundly. (We fit well together; we are the perfect size for each other. Like a good pair of jeans.) While I’m lying there, I’m thinking to myself how lucky we are to have had such a perfect day. Lucky indeed!

**I had this dream last night. (The night before last because it’s now Sunday!) It was similar to what I described earlier. I had the perfect little house with flowers, porch, and all. There was the cutest, sassiest little girl that I’ve ever seen. She was dressed up like a princess with a paint brush in hand running through the house. I asked her, “What are you doing?” She then looked at me like I were an idiot and replied, “Um, Mom, I'm painting before I sit down to write.” (Oh. O.k. the girl was 4, maybe 6, at the most.) Then she just pranced away reminding me of myself as a young princess.

As I walked through the house, it was perfect. It was so NN, but it was us too. Where Daddy is was what I was thinking. I walked all through the house. I saw pictures of us as a family, but couldn’t make out his face. I never saw him, but felt happy, as if he’d been there and was going nowhere. I felt like the Keatons.** (Dream over)

What I’m thinking is that maybe you don’t need the man. I mean we need his sperm, but that’s about it. I really do think that I could do this by myself. If he doesn’t WANT to be there, then we certainly won’t beg. WOW! I feel all clear headed, as if I’ve had some great revelation. Deep, NN, this is some pretty deep shit. Ha! Ha! “Deep shit!”

Who’d thought that I would learn about this today of all days? (You know with it being National Hugh Jackman Day and all.)

Friday, February 13, 2004
  Happy Friday 13th
May you all have drunken dreams of Jason chasing you with a knife while wearing his hockey mask! Just don't have sex, you know that's usually when they get killed. I, personally, think that Jason is jealous because he's not getting laid.

(Maybe he just needs a Valentine to fuck his brains out!) Tomorrow, tomorrow, the sun 'll come out tomorrow. It's only a day away!!
Thursday, February 12, 2004
  Don't Go There
Just let me start off by saying that I rock. I actually got up this morning and went to the grocery. I’m making a GOOD dinner for tonight. No, there is no special occasion. I just felt like cooking enough pot roast for thirty people. I must admit that I cook a damn good roast. I add potatoes, carrots, mushrooms, and serve it over rice. I know fattening!!! I don’t care because I weigh a whole 95lbs and have the metabolism of a hyena on crack.

I was talking to BM earlier and have something that I would like to say since he feels that he can’t. Ole Miss School of Pharmacy, you SUCK! Fuck you for making your students feel like they want to commit suicide during their last semester in your little shit ass town of Oxford. It seems, to me, that the Dean and teachers should be there to help. These assholes don’t even listen to their students. BM pulled an all nighter last night, studying for this test and when he got there to take the test; NOTHING that was covered in class was on the test. That’s bullshit!! BM is a 4.0 student, always has been, and now he’s worried that he may not even graduate. This is ridiculous. To anyone out there that may be reading; if you want to go to a school and party your ass off or go to law school, come on to Oxford,Ms. and go to Ole Miss. If you want to go to pharmacy school check out ALL of your options. I’ve yet to meet an Ole Miss graduate from the Pharmacy program that say that they would recommend it. O.k. venting is over. I just had to get that out because after letting him vent to me; I felt like I needed a Xanax. I can only imagine how he feels.

I must be going now, but I’ll be back. I have to go home to La. next weekend to take care of some family affairs. I’ve got to make all of the arrangements, like make sure that I get my favorite hotel room. I must call my brother to get me my early birthday/belated Valentine’s Day present. (Ha! Ha!) There are a few, and when I say a few, I mean a few people there that I would like to see, so I’ll call them to let them know that I’m coming. I’m sure that it will be a shitty trip, but I’m going to make the most of it.

Wednesday, February 11, 2004
  One Horny Movie Review
I watched my movies last night. Of course, I loved X-Men 2. I mean Wolverine or Logan, whatever you want to call him. (Actually, by the end of the movie, he is just Logan.) I just call him SEXY!! Other than being all horny by watching Hugh kick ass and he did. I liked this one so much better because they let him just get crazy with those blades of his. There was this one scene where he was up on a higher level than the bad guys, jumped down by doing a flip in the air, and landed with his blades in the bad guys. There was one on each side and he instantly killed them both. It was AWESOME. I rewound it several times. I will buy this movie. Enough about X-Men/Hugh, y’all know that I could talk about how totally sexy and fuckable that he is and he IS.

Then I masturbated. (Just kidding!!) I then watched Lost in Translation. This movie was grrrreat. Bill Murray was absolutely genius. I really do think that he should win the Oscar for this performance. If there is any fairness to whoever wins, than he will. He was “just there” in Tokyo. Scarlet Johansson, (This girl is a total cutie and truly a good actress. We’ll be seeing a lot more of her. I hope.) She was in the same situation. They were like the title; they were Lost in Translation. Imagine being in Tokyo, not knowing the language, not knowing many people, and really not having all too much to do. They just happen to meet and form this beautiful relationship. It was my new favorite word, lovely.

I highly recommend this movie to anyone who likes to use the right side of their brain. (Or is it the left?) If you like movies like: The Good Girl, Royal Tenenbaums, (which Bill Murray was also in) Fargo, or Raising Arizona than you’ll like this one. Get up and go rent it now. It will definitely be a groovy 2 hours of total relaxation while being Lost in Translation. Anyway, that’s my movie review. You can now see why I don’t do this for a profession or anything. Ha! Oh, by the way, go see Big Fish. It is kind of the same kind of movie. I recently saw it and, yes, it was lovely.

Enough about movies, if any of you have been to PS’s blog; you’ll see that my girl is being a big ole slut tonight. I told him to go for it. Hell, you only live once. I was also upset with him because he didn’t mention that I can totally do the Scarlett O’Hara eyebrow thing just like Ms. Vivien Leigh herself. (I must say, I can work these brows ‘cause I’m sassy like that.) People tend to think that I’ve actually got lots on my mind because of the whole brow thing, but I’ve just always had the left one cocked. I’m doing it so much that I don’t even know when I'm doing it. I hope that PS fills y’all in on his evening in his blog tomorrow. I always get ALL of the juicy (Ha! Juicy!) details in person or by phone. Sometimes my baby can be quite graphic with his stories, but I must say I like that he can talk to me in that way. There is nothing quite like hearing about two guys "getting it on". It's very educational.

I didn’t have some brilliant entry written and prepared this evening like I sometimes do. I just felt like talking and since PS is out being a ho; I have to talk to you. I know recently I’ve mentioned that I’ve been taking medication for my depression, bipolarness, manic depression, anxiety attacks, whatever you wish to call it. I tend to call it going through life. Prescription drugs just make it a lot easier. My only problem is that I’m finding myself in the situation where I’d rather take a Xanax than address the problem. Addressing the problem is way too stressful and I just can’t deal with it.

I need to get new tires put on my car. My stepfather told me that I’d need to do this in Feb. Well, it’s February and I need to get off my ass and go get new fucking tires. I’ve been putting it off because it’s cold and rainy outside. I just don’t want to get out in that. Now, since waiting, I have to put my spare on tomorrow, just to get it to the tire store. The whole thought of that is now stressing me out. Is it time for a Xanax before I start to feel any anxiety? I think not. I’m not going to just pop a pill any time that the slightest thing bothers me. I just need to be strong.

(Strong like another sexy man, Aragorn. Yummy! Damn, why am I so darn horny? ) I just love that whole good bone structure, facial hair, scruffy look, manly smell, and they just seem like they would be good in bed. Although, if I ever got the chance, they’d probably suck and kill my fantasies!

Would you like a side order of Condolezza Rice with that?

Don't be too surprised if you see me back here tonight, I'm wide awake and EXTREMELY bored!!!

Tuesday, February 10, 2004
  Blue, Why Don't You...
My moods seem to be pretty “stable” during the last few days. I guess that the Wellbutrin is starting to take effect. I’m not feeling so “Bipolar”. I’m not terribly happy one minute, crying hysterically the next, and then planning suicide or anything.

My problem is that I’m really just not feeling anything. I’m not happy. (Unless I’m reading this) I’m not sad, well, let’s not go to extremes; I’m not AS sad. I’m not mad. (Unless you wake me up too fucking early without coffee in hand.) There’s not too much making me “happy” these days. I know that I’ve said it in past entries that sometimes I’d rather not feel anything than to feel hurt or feel pain. But, damn, I just want to fell “happy”. You know, really “happy”.

Dr.MM put me back on Xanax also, but I’m trying not to take them unless I really need to. I don’t know if it’s the drugs or the painful experiences that I’ve endured lately, but I’m really starting not to give a shit. (About Anything!!) I don’t want to go out. Hell, I don’t really want to leave the house. I barely want to talk to my family and friends. I just want to be on my “Precious”. THAT'S ALL!

I think I’m so darn scared of getting “hurt” again that I don’t want to let anyone get “too” close. I’m lucky because I know that I have many people who love me, but why can I not accept their love? I mean in the past few weeks, I’ve been extremely hurt (if you can even call it that) by a dear “friend” and my “dad”. (Now I have a feeling, I feel like crying, I guess at least I’m feeling something!) My feelings lately can only be described as “blue”. (Which, ironically is my favorite color) Is there some connection here? Would I feel better if my favorite color were magenta?

Saturday is Valentine’s Day. I may have a date with PS; if I can manage to get my pathetic ass out of the house. Aren’t I suppose to be getting flowers, (not roses, anyone can get roses) flowers from that guy out there that loves me? The man that adores me and loves to hear my voice. Hell, he loves EVERYTHING about me, even my stinky feet. We should have plans for a very romantic evening. The only problem is that we’ve yet to know each other.

Valentine's Day is a painful anniversary for me. I made a life altering decision on Valentine’s Day 6yrs ago and Feb. 14th isn’t exactly a good day for me. It’s only a painful reminder of what I did all those years ago. I wish that I could have a good one because I’ve not had a good one in a damn long time. I know that I’m asking for the impossible here. (I mean, is Mr. Wonderful going to come and knock on my door, looking just like Hugh, and tell me that he’s been looking for me for years? I think not.) I think that the best thing for me to do is to treat Saturday like any other Saturday. It’s just the day after Friday and the day before Sunday!!

I was at MATH earlier and we were all talking about what we were doing on Valentine’s Day. I came up with my plan. I’m going to watch EVERY Hugh Jackman movie that I own. (And I own most of them) I’m going to watch Hugh and eat all of the French fries that I want. It will no longer be referred to as Valentine’s Day. It’s now known (to me) as National Hugh Jackman Day!!

Speaking of Hugh, I actually left the house today. Yippieee!!! I went to Starbucks and got my usual Peppermint Mocha. I also went to Blockbuster to rent Lost in Translation and the X-Men 2. (You know, I gotta get my Hugh on!) I can’t believe being that I think that he’s the sexiest man evah that I’ve yet to see this movie. I tried to get this movie that a “friend” recommended called Jesus’ Son. Of course, they didn’t have it. (They NEVER do!!) I am determined to see this movie. Maybe, I’ll just have to go but it.

Well, I’m going to smoke and watch my movies now. I’ll be back later with a full movie review like only I can! Stay tuned.

Oh, nothing to do with anything, but on Will and Grace tonight, Jack went to go see The Boy From Oz. For those of you that don’t know, it’s a musical starring Hugh Jackman on Broadway. (That I could only dream of seeing) Jack was talking about just how sexy
Hugh was. Its destiny, it a Hugh Day indeed!!
Monday, February 09, 2004
  I Want To Live Under The Sea...
Have you ever thought about what you want to be done with your remains when you die? I’ve given this a lot of thought. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve lost a brother and a sister or why it is. I’ve “buried” many loved ones to be a young 27 years old.

My brother didn’t want to be buried, so he’s in an above ground tomb. He was Closter phobic and worried about bugs. Why? I don’t know. I mean, you’re dead, that’s only your shell. Why do we give this so much thought? My sister was put in a mausoleum. If you’re not familiar with this; it’s like a filing cabinet full of dead people. CREEPY!!

I’ve given the disposal of my remains plenty of thought. (Perhaps more than any “normal” person would, but I never claimed to be “normal”. Ya’ll know I’m “CRAZY”.) I’ve NEVER wanted to be buried. I guess that I’m like my brother because the whole bug thing freaks me out. I definitely don’t want to be put in the filing cabinet. That’s just too weird for me. I used to say that I wanted to be cremated.

First, I wanted to be cremated and spread around in the butterfly garden at the New Orleans Zoo. I wanted to be put back into the earth. (Kind of recycle myself) Second, I wanted to be emptied into the ocean/sea/whatever, I’m sure you get it. This was “the one” that I originally planned on sticking to until I saw another choice on the Discovery Channel. (We’ll talk more on that later.)

Of course, my mother told me that if I were to die before that she would never have me cremated. Being the overly Catholic woman that she is, she said that I would go to hell if I were cremated. (I know some Catholics, especially my mom, are nuts when it comes to shit like this.) Recently, the Pope said that it was o.k. to be cremated. (Well, thank you!) Now my mom says that its o.k., but she’d rather not. I mean the Pope could come out and announce that if you smoked an ounce of marijuana a day that you’d go straight to heaven; my mom would make Cheech and Chong look tame.

BM used to tell me that if we were married; he’d have me buried. After all, he’d be lonely buried without me beside him. Um yeah, like, we’d be DEAD! He said that there should be a place where he or others could visit. I guess that I can understand that. I mean, I go visit my brother’s grave often. It, for some reason, makes me feel closer to him by being there. (He was born on the 4th of July and my mom always put red, white, and blue bullshit around his gravesite. Every year on his birthday, my brother and I go there with every color of flower other than red, white, or blue (Eric always hated that shit!) decorate it, and sit on top of it and smoke one with him. It may sound weird, but you can feel his presence there with you.)

I know what I want done with my remains and EVERYONE, but PS thinks that I’m weird and crazy. (You obviously don’t know me if you’re just now finding this out!) I will be cremated, but that’s not all. There’s this place in Atlanta where for 1-3 thousand dollars they’ll add your remains to man made coral. You’re family or whoever brings your ashes and pours them into the mixture. They make the coral and put it at the bottom of the sea. You’re loved ones are there for it, so I guess it’s kind of like a funeral. (Only in a nice, sunny, happy place!)

I’m going to meet with my lawyer soon to have papers drawn up to ensure that my wishes are carried out, no matter what my family or anyone may say. You know, just in case. I want to live under the sea. Wouldn’t it be lovely? Lovely, I like that word. I love to be told, “You’re lovely”.

Isn’t the thought of being under the water with the most beautiful colors ever created, colors people have never seen, beautiful creatures swimming all around you, ALWAYS something to look at, (like living in art) a much lovelier thought than being put in the ground and slowly eaten by bugs? Oh! You’d have spiders crawling all over you. I couldn’t handle it. I hate spiders! I know I’d be dead and all, but I don’t want my shell to go through that. I love the ocean. Being under the water, seeing the beauty, there are no words to describe it, unless you’ve seen it.

Yes, and just to be EXTRA weird, when my Tigger passes on; (God help me on that day which is at least 30 yrs away.) she will too be cremated. I plan on putting her in an urn. When I die and am cremated; her ashes will be added to mine. People have often told me that I’m catlike because I like to get up early in the morning just to look at the birds. I love to observe. I’m amazed by almost everything. What better place for us to R.I.P. than under the sea in an octopus’s garden?
Sunday, February 08, 2004
  Love At First Sight
This was written 02-07-04, but my “Precious” just got out of the hospital today. Thank God!!!

Well my “friend” and I are sadly no longer friends. It hurts, but you know about it already. We exchanged a few rude emails yesterday. He said that he owed me an “explanation”. Whatever! It almost makes me feel like we were never “friends”. Maybe we just reminded each other of our lost youth. I guess that good feeling can only last so long. Though I meant it when I thought we were “friends”, hell, I thought we were “good friends”. Honestly this hurts because I did/do genuinely care about him and his well being. Maybe he just couldn’t handle it. I don’t know. I don’t know what makes people just up and change the way he did. (Not without being locked up 24hrs later!) Ha!

But damn I’m going to miss the hell out of him. O.K. No more about him. He hates me. It really sucks, but I have drugs to keep my mind off of “it”. Do you? One thing that I will miss is that he truly inspired me. My God, look how much I’ve written in the past few months. (Though I will say I write A LOT anyway.)

I must say that I don’t think that my little blog is half bad. I actually find it funny at times. (Not as funny as PS, but how could I possibly compete with that?) To Wong Foo was just on Bravo. It reminded me of how wonderful PS is. (Not just because he’s gay/queer/a fag/butt pirate/sissy/whatever!) I know this because he’s truly my friend. He doesn’t ask anything in return, but my friendship and that’s all I ask of him. Well, the occasional beauty/fashion tips from each other and, of course, whomever has money pays the bar tab. No questions asked. The drunken bitches must look out for each other. I’m very pleased with him for finally blogging. PS has such wonderfully outrageous thoughts going on in that sarcastic, yet sexy, head of his that it would be wrong for him not to share them with the world. (He’s always shared with me, but I’m his best friend or at least I better be. You got that PS. don’t make me come to Deliverance country and kidnap your “toys”. You know I’ll do it ‘cause I’m CRAZY!!)

If you venture over to PS blog, you’ll get to know him. You’ll find that he is a 22yr old man living with the “hiv”. I’ve wanted to talk about it here, but felt that it was not my place to start the topic of conversation on my blog. Now that he’s talked about “it”, I feel that I can talk about “it” too.

PS and I met 3yrs ago when we were both drug dealers at STD hospital which was ran by the female version of Hitler. (I think that she was his great, great, great granddaughter or something.) Needless to say, the job sucked. I knew no one there and felt like an idiot because I’d never dealt drugs before. It wasn’t a place where I expected to make any life long friends, yet, any friends at all.

The first time I met PS, I knew that he was gay. (Don’t call me a fag hag. I hate that dumb ass expression.) I’ve just been fortunate enough to have been around all sorts of people my entire life. He was not wearing a hot pink tank top with a matching feathered boa while running, no skipping, around the hospital telling everyone just how FAB-OOO-LUS that they were.

He was quite the opposite. He was quiet, shy, and not the cutest dresser. (I later found out that you don’t wear your cute clothes to make IV’s.) I don’t think that he said more than five words to me in the first two weeks that I was there. It wasn’t love at first sight.

The fair/carnival/whatever was in town and a few of us from work had all decided to get together and go since we’d never gotten together after work before. (PS and I both have the mentality that we could sit and observe the redneck in his natural habitat. Another southern perk!) Let’s see, if I remember correctly, it was PS, D (your typical blonde), two or three of the of the sassiest bootylicious black girls you’ve evah met, and little ole me. We went to the late night thing because we didn’t get off from the night shift until like 10 or 11pm. I saw this as my opportunity to let PS know that I know, I’m cool with it, I liked him, and wanted us to be friends. I worked it out where PS would ride with me. (I’m lucky he’s still my friend. My driving tends to frighten people for some reason. People that don’t usually wear seatbelts click 'em and even click me in when they ride with me. “Hey, people, I’ve never been in a “real” wreck. Chill out! I’m very observant. I would nevah let you get hurt. I just like to drive my little car very fast!”)

We got there and headed straight for the beer tent. (It’s the only form of alcohol that’s available at the fair, unfortunately, but I can’t imagine a carnie handing me a dirty martini in a Dixie cup. My God!) The only problem with the beer tent was that you couldn’t leave with your beer and you had to drink up because they stopped serving at like 12 or 1am. PS, D, and I sat there for like two hours drinking as fast as we could. That’s right, drink lots of beer then go hop on the Twister. Obviously, we weren’t thinking, but it was fun. Well, we were thinking, we just had to get our drunk on.

We were leaving one of the most memorable restrooms that I’ve ever had the pleasure to stand up and pee in when we had a little encounter with one of our local rednecks. As PS, D, and I were walking around the fair, PS was in the middle holding our hands. (He was pimping considering he was with the two hottest girls there. By looking at the nasty hookas that were there, it really wasn’t saying much.) Anyway, as we walked by, some little shit that was smaller than me yells out, “Silly faggot, dicks are for chicks!” (DING! Round one!) That was what I heard in my head. I turned around to confront the little shit and PS tried to stop me. He said something like, “I get shit like that all of the time.” (Something like that?) “Not when you’re with me, you don’t!” I ran over there to this little uneducated fucker and quickly addressed his stupidity. “Are you jealous that he’s here with two good looking hotties and you’re just sitting here making fun of people as they walk by? With a bunch of guys, by the way. I don’t see ANY women around you. Maybe you’re gay. You fucking bastard!” The guy squirmed around the subject, mumbled something, he may have even apologized. I personally think he wet his pants. Oh, and his friends, they just laughed at him because they knew that he was stupid. I’m 5ft 90lbs, but if you piss me off; I’m about 10ft 300lbs and ain’t afraid of anyone or anything. (I also love to let stupid people know when they are being stupid. For some reason, it made me feel like I had balls, big ‘ens!) PS said that it was at that particular moment that he fell in love with me.

We left the fair at about 1am, I think. D needed to get home so we took her back to STD to get her car. PS and I were just not ready to call it a night. We decided to meet at a little “gay friendly” bar around the corner and have a real drink out of actual glass.

After several visits to “our little bar” after work one evening; we had “the talk”. PS ordered us another cocktail while looking more serious than usual. If you know PS, he always (well, 99% of the time) looks serious. (Unless he’s stinking drunk, but that’s another entry for another day) PS started to tell me just how glad he were that we were becoming such good friends. Of course, I was in total agreement, but concerned about where this conversation was headed. He told me that if our “friendship” were to continue that there was something that I should know about him. (Oh! My! God! He’s straight AND in love with me. No! How could you?) He then looked at me with those deep eyes that can see through you as serious as anyone has ever looked at me before. PS then told me that he was HIV positive and would totally understand if I didn’t want to be his friend anymore. (While thinking, “You little, shit; do you really think that I’m that shallow?”) I quickly grabbed him, gave him a hug, and told him that I loved him for the first time. (Now we tell each other we love each other every time we talk.) I loved him before he told me, but knowing this, him trusting me with this only made me love him more. (I could go on about PS for hours, and have, I’m a slow typist.)

That night when he told me about the “hiv”; that’s when I fell in love, real love, with him. I’ve often been told that I was like a little dog, with strong opinions, that didn’t know she was little. Maybe like a Pomeranian with the mentality of a pit bull. (A sweet one)

I’m not afraid of that shit, the “hiv”. If anything, it only made me love him more because that took guts to tell me that. It meant that he trusted me and thought enough of me to share this with me. I’m glad he did. That, my “friend”, is friendship and PS is one person that has been there and to this day is still my “friend”. Others have come and gone and that, I’m sure will continue, but I know our friendship, no, our love will never go anywhere.

*PS, I know you’re reading. You’re probably the only one that made it this far. (I didn’t realize how long it was.) I love you. I adore you. I treasure our friendship. I will never leave you. Just do the same for me, o.k.

“You and I, our love will never die.” Bee Gees

To anyone interested: I’m doing some “easy” research on HIV/AIDS to educate as many as I can, so if you’re interested, it will soon be an entry. (I don’t want to say soon because that’s like a guarantee and that pressures me and makes me feel like I HAVE to do it and I get stressed and turn into Woody Allen, but much cuter.) Just be on the look out
Thursday, February 05, 2004
  I Luv You, Southern Gay Man
Ha! Ha! I know the title is cheezzy, but thank you for helping me make my links look sooo much better.

I still need to get that one out, it can stay for now. I'm slowly making progress with this thang. Now, if only I could post a picture of us, together, where everyone can see how freaking cute we are. PS, people have a right to see our outer beauty. They can read about our inner shit all day long!!!

Once again; there is no "real" topic to post. I think that I'm going to pull a "hermit" this weekend and get some writing done. I guess that I've only been able to think about this whole "friend" thing. I've said it EVERY day lately, but it FUCKING sucks!!! I'm in total shock about the whole situation. I think what hurts the most is that I will never see or talk to him again and there was no proper "good-bye". Someone that I loved and thought loved me just made me "dead to them". I think that if I knew why that it would make me feel better. I would have some sense of closure and better able myself to mourn the "loss of him".

The second to the last time that we hung out, we had so much fun. Fun that was long over due and well deserved. Last time I saw him, I was going through some pretty rough shit. (Still am) Our visit was good, but not grrrreat! It just makes me want to cry. (I probably would, but I've had my fare share of xanax this evening.) I thought that I would be "friends" with this person forever. I thought that he really cared about my life and my well being. I sure know that I cared about his; the problem is that I still do.When you realize that you mean absolutely nothing to one of the people that you love most in this world; it's so darn hard to deal with.

Grrrreat! Now I'm crying. I just want my "friend" back. I miss him.
  Lactating Powder
I don't know what is wrong with this damn blog. It's like the minute I learn how to do something it's all good, but as soon as I try to do it again. NO! Fuck it!

If you want to read about a funny gay boy; go to www.lactatingpowder.blogspot.com. Maybe one of these days, I will master this blog, but until then...

  You Named It What?
There is really no "real" post as of now. I'm sick of moaning about my lost friend. I just don't know what the deal is. I wish that he had the courtesy to call or email me to know that he is ALIVE!

I'm happy at this particular moment in time. PS, my bestest friend evah has started a journal. Go to (Oh, Damnit! I hope that I linked this right.) PS is a lovely single gay man living in the south. There is not too much more to add to that. Funny!! I'm just happieeeee because I wanted PS to go with me to JConn 2004 and now; we can go as "journalers/bloggers/whatever". At least now I know that I will have someone to drink in that lovely bar with me.
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
  Explain It To Me
I just wanted to explain why there were so many post today. My "Precious" got a Trojan Horse or something. She's in the hospital. Until she gets out, some people, not friends, have offered to let me use their computers. Ain't that sweet?

I had so many things written in my journals due to lack of posting (which really does cause withdrawls) that I found a computer and went nuts. I will have access to this one for a few days; so if you don't hear from me for a while, I'm not dead. (not yet anyway) I'm just temporarily "out of order".

I've gone through a lot in the past few weeks. I'm questioning family, friends, and anyone else that acts as if they would like to share some of my time. This feeling is making me extremely sad. I went back to Dr. MM today. 300 dollars an hour! 300 DOLLARS, dude, I'm going into the wrong profession. I feel that the session helped a bit, but I can't take Dr. MM home with me. I need someone that I can talk to. I think/thought that I had that, but unfortunately, no reply.

Why can't I just flash back to nine days ago when my life was semi-normal?
  Love Me A Queer
Written 2-1-04 2:00pm

I have such a feeling of emptiness. I feel as if I don’t “know myself” since this whole dad crisis and all. I mean, I know (to the best of my ability) who I am. I think!? I’ve been having that feeling that I need to “flee” from everyone and “find” myself (or the thought of her) again. I want to find that grrrreat person that my friends and family are always telling me that I am. I feel like a BIG part of her has died in the past week.

I still feel that two very important relationships will never be the same. I’m already starting to “prepare” myself for the “loss of them”. I know that I’ve said it a 1000 times, but there are just no words that can describe this painfully numb feeling of emptiness that I have at this particular moment in time. In the simplest of words, “it just hurts real bad”. At least I have medication to make me comfortably numb. The medication is making things easier. (I think.) Well, I’m not dead yet, so I’d say its doing the trick!


“Clutter is the number one sign that a person is not in control of their life.” One of the Queers on Queer Eye just said that and I had to write it down. “I am clutter!” My all time favorite Queer quotes had to be when Carson said,” only whores and little girls wear shoes like that!” (They were a very hot pink pointed toe heel with a matching top. Very bad!) This is the highlight of my day: A Queer Eye Marathon. FABULOUS!!! These both make me happy and sad at the same time.
Written 1-30-04 5:45pm

Well, yesterday was one of the single worst of my life. I accidentally made one of my two best friends very angry with me. I expected to never talk to or see them again. I reacted as if someone had died or worse. I was more troubled by this “friend thing” than I was about the whole “daddy thing”. (All these “bad things”, I wish they would all just GO AWAY!) I then reached a new point of being totally emotionally fucked. I was t.e.f.f.o.e.d. (totally, emotionally, fucking, freaked, out) Teffoed, new word? Don’t know, really don’t care. I was crying hysterically. You know the whole AHHHEEE!!! (Multiplied x 1000) I was doing the crying/moaning thing. You know the one that makes those around you think that you are hyperventilating and that they need to take you to the hospital? The one where you are crying so intensely, you can't close your mouth. That one!

Um no, people, I just found out that my biological father was not. I have no idea what man kindly donated his precious sperm to make me. I always thought that I got many of my “good” traits from my father. I guess that it doesn’t have to be biological for everything. Does it? Then last night I go and check my email and believe that I’ve lost one of the most important people in my life forever. It really did (and still does) feel like someone that I loved deeply has died. Needless to say, I was ready to plan my funeral.

THANK GOD!! I just got an email from my friend and my friend said that I was over reacting. They said that I needed to give them time to be angry. Be angry, my friend, but just don’t ever let our friendship end. I couldn’t handle loosing you.

**By the way, people, NO SHIT! , when HH and I got home on Wednesday. My Mom broke the news to us that they had to put our family dog, Sissy, asleep. Sissy was a sweetheart of a dog that lived a long, spoiled life. May she R.I.P.**
  Don't Put That In Your Eye
Written on 1-28-04 1:23am

I just got back from my friend's office. She made my “Precious” absolutely fabulous! Thank you for making her purdy. It’s sad that two of the things that have made me happy today were my blog (looking all good and shit) and SpongeBobSquarePants. At least there were things that did make me smile today. My friend is here now and that also makes me smile.

How can a day start off so perfectly and end so badly?

Oh! Funny story: Last night (whenever I drank) I reached into my purse to get my Visine. My drunken ass was squirting freaking Vicks Nasal Solution in my eyes. The funny part is that I was so plastered (I was beyond that!) that I didn’t realize this until the second eye. OUCH!!!
  A New Word
Written on 1-27-04 5:00pm

I called Dr. MM’s office today because he told me to call him on Friday and let him know how the medication is doing. (I was a bit late calling!) Not two hours after I left my message; he, not a nurse or sec., called me back. I was both shocked and impressed at the same time. Is there a word that describes that feeling? Let’s make one, shall we: SHOW-IMP, like ‘da pimp. I was showimped when he called. It’s a good thang!

I talked to him about the “dad thing” for close to an hour. That was really cool of him to talk to me because this man’s time is worth 100’s of dollars an hour. (Especially w/o insurance.) I felt a little better after I talked to him.

I just keep feeling like this whole “daddy thing” is a dream, no a nightmare and I’m going to wake up at any moment.

Hi, Dr. MM!! (If your reading.)
  La Reve?
Needless to say, I’m experimenting with my blog. I have sooo many things to post. I’m going to try and let them make as much sense (if any) as I usually do. These are posts that I’ve written over the past week, but just had not had a chance to sit and post w/o my “Precious” being screwed! So here I go, I’m trying my best here. Oh, and I should also mention that I’m under the influence of drugs. (Prescribed, of course) Well, except for one.

La Reeve written on 1-23-04 @ 10:30am.

Moira, Heidi, and I went to eat at Chili’s last night. So much Fun!! It was good to see her. She finally got a phone so I can call her when I’m in town; rather than just “popping” in. I know I hate it when people do it to me. We had a shot called a “lemon drop”, I’d never had one. I must say that I liked it a lot. It just didn’t agree with the five Bud Lights that I had before we even went to Chili’s, or the other beer I drank after we got back to the room, or the little bit I smoked once we got back. Whatever! I puked, regurertated, vomited, hurled, or ralphed. However you wish to say it, I sure did it. I must say that I felt much better after I well, you know.
Anyway, I learned something very important that night. When reaching into your purse to get your Visine; make sure that it is, indeed Visine. I was squirting damn Vick’s Nasal Spray into my eyes and my drunken ass didn’t realize it, until I got to the second eye. Ain’t that some shit?

1-24-04 @ 12:35pm

Heidi and I just got up and had breakfast and turned on the TV to find that on ESPN Classic; they were showing Super Bowl III. You know the one where Joe Namath guaranteed victory? I love him! He’s just so super sexy cool, even now, all old and shit; he’s still pretty damn cool. (I did pay 400 dollars for a Jets helmet autographed by him!) I’m a true fan. J! E! T! S! JETS! JETS! JETS!

My dad just called and asked if HH and I wanted to eat lunch with him and then go to the hospital to see my grandmother. Seeing that we just finished breakfast; I told him that maybe we could eat lunch tomorrow. Also the fact that I’m high as a kite right now might have something to do with me “putting daddy off”. (You know, to dad, I don’t smoke, I’ve NEVER done drugs, and I’m still a virgin!) I do drink a bit, but that’s just every now and then. I NEVER get falling down drunk or anything. No, not me. HH and I are going to see my grandmother later, but we are really into this game. Besides, Erik is on his way over to visit.


Well, now we are lying in bed with the doors to the balcony open. It’s pouring down rain and I love it. You simply couldn’t ask for a better day. The weather: my, favorite, (It would be better if it were a massive thunderstorm.) hotel beds rock, and room service is good. (French fries) I’ve got some grrrreat company, good stuff, ice cold cokes, and cold beer. Does it get any better? If only I could freeze this moment in time and make it last forever! For the first time in a long time, I feel totally unstressed and undepressed!


HH and I went by my cousin’s house and no one was home. Then we went by JH’s and he was not home. WTF? Where is everyone? Oh well, HH and I went to the hospital at about 6:00pm to see my grandmother. That is when I over heard some of the most shocking news that I’ve EVER had to deal with in my life. Ken Is NOT my biological father! WTF??? There are just sooo many questions: none of which I want to get into right now. I think I fainted or went into shock or something because the last thing that I remember is asking my “father” if it were true and he said,” yes”. I later woke up in my bed at the hotel room.

I’m now up, can’t sleep, can’t eat, and really can’t think! I just took some medication and made myself a cold coke. HH is in the other room asleep. She is such a sweetheart. I wouldn’t have survived this day w/o her and someone else whom I’m not at liberty to mention. I’ve tried to call BM about 1000 times. He’s yet to answer or call me back. (Grrrreat having a “friend” to talk to!?!)


How can the “most perfect” day turn into the “most horribly” in just a matter of minutes? Would someone please explain that one to me?

I’m watching The Virginian on the Hallmark channel. I was flipping and saw a young and sexy Robert Redford, so here I am.

Why I don’t watch much TV, too many commercials.

Check out swiffer.com for Jeanneve’s (I’m sure that I spelled her name wrong, but people have been doing it to me all of my life, sorry.) tips for decorating.

Oh, it’s a mini-series because it’s going off after just 30 minutes. Guess that I will try to find myself some cartoons.

The drugs are kicking in and I don’t feel as bad. I just wish that I had someone to cry to and “let it out!”

Just go ahead and read, afterall, did no one tell you that I'm the nicest fucking person that I know?! You can email me at catsinthetub@hotmail.com, go ahead, make my day!

12/01/2003 - 01/01/2004
01/01/2004 - 02/01/2004
02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004
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03/01/2007 - 04/01/2007
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08/01/2007 - 09/01/2007
01/01/2008 - 02/01/2008


a damn thing
air america radio
defective yeti
hate your daddy
lactating powder(my best friend)
perpetual blonde
rock snobs
sexy man

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