BACK!

I'm still alive. (OK, so who just got pissed?)
Just have no time for this as I am too busy living with my man. We have no internet access and we probably never will. I care not.

Still trying to weasle my way out of work to escape to the keys. Not successful as of yet. Still trying. Cross your limbs for me.

Just wrote three pages of crap for school. Embarrassing, I tell you. I just cannot care about essays. Ask me to write up a 10-page patient assessment and I'm happy. Ask me to write three pages on somebody else's short story and I got nothin', kid.

I have a date with my old life next week. I intend to keep it.

Sometimes -- even as happy as I am -- I wish for things I shouldn't want.

Goodnight, fellow voyeurs. Sleep tight.

Whoa, Nelly.

Why do you give a shit what I think about what you post on the Internet?
Why does it matter what I say to whomever I say it to?
Are you not free to express your opinion to any individual you choose, in whatever format you choose?

I don't give a shit how evil you are. Really. Do whatever pleases you with whatever you feel the need to dredge up. Take up your own personal time to worry about things that shouldn't even take up space in your little head. Although I am fascinated by the way my opinion directly affects you. Seriously, why should it matter what some "stupid wetback" in Fresno thinks? Or what anyone outside of your personal circle thinks, for that matter.

You know, none of this is real to me. I take everything internet-related with a grain of salt. I take whatever comes with what I spill onto these pages -- good and bad -- because it's part of the package. I subject myself to scrutiny, and just shrug when someone ruffles my little feathers. If someone decides they hate the way I live my life or speak my internet piece, so be it. I am not going to waste my time worrying, hating, or dissecting them, because -- seriously now -- why would I give a shit?

All this hatred would be kind of funny if it wasn't so, um, sad.

So we don't get along. So I read and say stuff. Don't you? So what? Why does what I have to say matter so much? How is your life altered in any way? How am I actually hurting you? I mean, am I seriously hurting you? Is that it? I don't get it.

Fuck it, man. I don't want to get it. I have no interest in playing the vendetta game with you, dude. Have at it ... give it your best shot. Whatever makes you happy ...

*Also, I would bet my whole wad that you will never be able to come up with any sort of e-mails written by me indicating you are "ugly", "mean", or "cruel". I've never said any of those things at any time over the last year. Actually, you really don't come up as a topic in my e-mails but once every full moon. And you know, those definitely wouldn't be the words I'd use at all. And furthermore, I hadn't put that much thought into your character makeup (but I will now just to protect myself from whatever it is that you seem to be threatening me with). Who you are beyond this screen isn't (or should I say wasn't) that important.

But thanks for the warning. I'll stay on my toes and in my best behavior mode now. All opinions will remain inside this genius mind of mine. Do you feel better now?

Yo.

I got suckered into working four hours tonight. The man is working until 11 anyway, might as well...he'll beat me home, which is nice. I no like waiting for him. When I'm there alone, the missing seems extra intense. (I left him dinner and paper heart. Sigh. I am in love.)

As I was grocery shopping today, I realized how much I've been secretly wanting to do these types of activities. I've wanted to share my life with someone, to pick up little necessities because he asks me for them, because I love doing stuff for him. Today, as I cruised the isles, I found myself smiling because I love buying food he'll love...food I can cook for him. I love cleaning his kitchen and having someone rely on me to take care of stuff. It's nice. I think I appreciate it more after spending all those years with that drug dealer guy.

Yeah, I can only shake my head at the past and wonder. At least I know what it's like to love toxic. It was a great lesson ... like quick sand and super glue. Thank goodness I survived. I appreciate what I have now that much more.

My man, he's almost perfect. You should be so lucky. Too bad you aren't. Too bad you think I'm full of shit. Too bad for you.

See you "around".

Satiated

This is such a waste of time. I wouldn't even think to come around here if it weren't for the boredom factor here (at work, that is). I only count two or three of you as real friends, anyway. It's not like I'd invite any of you to my wedding. (Except those I count as friends...those listed as contacts in my cell phone.) Like I stated when I initially set this bad-boy up, I have no idea why I do this. Why do any of us do what we do?

I need a hair cut. This mane is down my back and driving me insane.
I need motivation to start exercising again.
I need sex. (On restriction for the next three to seven days.)

My man asked me to move in. I am. I so am.

Trivial

I should curb my sarcasm. Not everyone enjoys my brand of humor, ESPECIALLY on the Internet.

I am so boringly satisfied with myself, my life. There is nothing here to see. Sorry.

I'm making baked chicken, cauliflower and pasta tonight. Wanna stop by for chow?

I am still waiting to hear about that job. I really hope they pick me.

saturday seven

Uno:
Still no exercise. My extra time is spent lounging with my boy. I feel like a lazy ass, and summer is nipping at my fat calves. Last season's wardrobe is a no-go at this point. Better sit up, push up and move faster than 2 mph.

Dos:
My relationship is the lick. It's pretty disgusting how cool we are. I know we'll argue one day. Wait. You know, maybe we will never argue. Maybe we'll be that disgusting couple who end up living with each other in peace and happiness 'til death do us part. Wouldn't that be rad?

Tres:
I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I'm half-way through my nursing major and I am thinking of going a totally different direction. I have a feeling this is the right gear, this path I am on. I am so comfortable with every choice. I am. I'm just never sure. Are you? Ever sure, that is. Like, 100 percent full-throttle no regret sure?

Cuatro:
I have nothing in common with my girl friends right now. Nothing. They live beer and single and fun and flirting and, geez, nothing I find appealing right now. So much can change in such a short time span. I am so different than last March's E.C. I love it. I hope we don't end up too far apart to do lunch.

Cinco:
I want to have kids. Now.

Seis:
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

Siete:
I sure could use a million bucks.

every thing new.

Had a job interview today. I know it went well, but I'm sure it went well with a few other interviewees as well. Hopefully mine went best of the best. I would like to get my feet wet elsewhere. I've been here for eight long years and it's time for something new.

Change is my 2005 theme.

Crossing limbs and thoughts and wishing and all that you do when hoping for the best outcome possible.