I'm not sure if I feel the same about turning 30 as I thought I would,
but I'll figure it out later.
We leave for Vegas in the morning,
so this may be the last y'all see of me until Monday.
which is good.
the way I've been posting lately,
yer not missin' much.
I hope you all have fantastic weekends of your own,
and if you wish for anything for me for my birthday,
wish that I'll get my mojo back
or get out of this funk
I just want to feel that fire of creativity running under my skin like a thousand moths, searching for the lone porch light in the dark woods of Maine...
it always comes back to that, doesn't it?
I don't know if it's the 4 cups of coffee I drank
(in an effort to shed a couple of pounds before the big weekend...)
or the fact that I heard a couple of fantastic songs earlier,
or the little known facts I memorized from the back of that creal box last winter...
I'm feeling a bit of a buzz.
I'd like to be feeling Bo's ass(thanks for the reminder, Pisser)...
but since I'm not and will never be--
maybe some of you would be kind enough to bottle up a copped feel of your respective (if not respected) asses for me...?
oh, come ON.
I don't ask for much, I really don't.
you could do that for me.
I'm not really an ass girl,
but since everything's topsy turvey lately,
I figure, why the fuck not?
which reminds me...
(yes, husband o'mine, pull out that checkbook)
if I EVER become deluded
enough to get plastic surgery?
it'll be ass-plants.
of course, at my mention of this,
the darling husband said, "but how would you sit down?"
I, of course, proceeded to show him that you don't really sit on the part I wanted enlarged--
and I even threw in an imaginary "bird".
as in "free of charge."
as opposed to the times when I flip people off for cash, drugs or sex.
I guess that coffee's kicking in.
kickin' it, at the very least.
I can't WAIT to read Maine's review of tonight's "Hit me BAby One More Time"...
oh, what I woudn't give to be on the phone with him while it's on!!
of course, with time zones and all that, it wouldn't work.
I guess I'll have to wait, then.
carry on my wayward sons, daughters, cousins and creepy uncle Dick who doesn't know the meaning of "too many rum & cokes" (or maybe he does...)
happy birthday to ME.
Viva Las Vegas.
newsflash: the husband is a closet boy-band fan.
what the FUCK am I going to do about this???
I'm pretty sure it's grounds for divorce.
aww...but he's so cute....I guess I can live with it...
and that coffee is still turning me up a notch.
next time I piss and moan about having nothing to write?
remind me to drink some fucking coffee fer chrissakes!!!!
send me pictures of your boobs.
hey--I'm old now, I deserve something!!!