Sampson.

Sampson.
The strength.
That skin.
Your arms.
Oh to be...
your stunning,
bride.

Sampson.
Your hair.
Glistening!
Like sun.
Oh would,
that it...
were mine.

Gutted like a fish, bleeding like a period, impervious like diamond.
I thought about starting a new blog, because I always lose count of how many people I've told about ones that are supposed to be secret, or people look, and people find, and then I don't know what I should and shouldn't say. Not that I like censoring myself, but you know what they say about little pitchers. Or something about rarely hearing anything good about yourself if you go listening with your ear to the door. I kind of like the way this computer looks right now, but only for this. I switched to Windows 7 and now, the font on my page, the pages themselves, are huge. They take up so much space that the simplest effort online requires scrolling.

I scroll, you scroll, lets keep going.

I shouldn't take advice from people anymore. People telling me to quit being me, to go against my ethics, and to be the bigger person. It did nothing for me, as I suspected, as I expected. If you go looking for something new from someone who has ritualistically acted the same way in every argument, you are definitely not going to be surprised. Its going to be the same. I used to fret back and forth about whether I was hard-hearted, whether I was taking something too far, but to see it turned around, the whole reason why, to be made into their own, it was like they shot an arrow at me and somehow they decided it was they who got impaled by its sharpness. Realizing that actions of course always deal out repercussions, I didn't expect it to become worse than it already was. You know, but I thought it could be better.

I guess not. I've been wrong before.

This winter is getting to me now, I'm ready for the action of summer when I can go somewhere and when I can be alone outside of my home. Not that I'm alone all the time, but I've always valued my 'me time.' Being single for so long, I know who I am, I don't need someone else's approval for an idea, or even an allowance to do what I consider my basic freedom. I'm very set in my ways. My brother shocked me the other day on the phone by saying he figured he is going to be single forever. I wanted to tell him that he has to carry on the family name, because I sure as Hell am not going to do so. I bit back the remark, because we aren't the types of people who speak in that sort of nature. Sometimes I think my relationship with my brother is very general. In ways I wish that could change, but I'm also wary about my privacy. And isn't it funny that I worry so much about my father's namesake? I really do.

I've been thinking about my mother a lot lately, I've been spending a lot of time with her too. Tomorrow we are going to lunch. I think I've reached a point, even if we had a tumultuous past, of total forgiveness. Who else has carried me through this mess? Certainly none of my friends. I ask people or tell them what happened and its like a switch shuts off. I get blasé responses, changes of subject. My mother has been a comfort because I think she understands me and she understands the situation.

I'm thankful for her, and I owe her so much. I think about the loneliness that is going to happen when she passes away, and I don't know how people deal with it. How do you deal with a parent dying, even naturally? I can't begin to imagine.

Anyway, I'm not going to talk about it anymore, because first, I wrote a post and deleted it immediately after getting a shitty comment. So it seems that all you can have is nothing but cotton candy on blogs, especially ones so out in the open like this one. I don't think this one will continue on in the same vein. I'm going to go back to my old one where I can private entries. I thought when I signed up for this that you could, but either I haven't found the button, or it just isn't an option. It isn't a goodbye so much as a changing of my shirt.

I think this is one of the best live performances I've ever seen. I've watched it so many times, and its so relevant for me right now. People are into all these new bands, and myself too, but I think eventually it is going to be cool to get into people that are really talented like this. I'm not a super fan, but I think she writes some really brilliant things, and anyone that can sing like that live is incredibly talented. Its the ending that blows me away.

That being said, this journal is dead, off with its head!

Sigh.

Gee that was really funny.

A Formal Letter

Dear Lesbian Stalker,

Please stop stalking me, okay? It is really weird. I mean, it is getting to be especially weird. I know we started off on a weird foot, but I'm pretty sure I ended it pretty clearly, and you need not keep plopping down next to me in the bar and forcing me into conversation. I really thought you were going to try and ruin my New Year's Eve, but I realized you just ruined it for yourself. Me? I had a great time! What a swell night, with my friends and all.

So please kick yourself in the teeth and leave me alone.

Sincerely and with no regrets,

Me!

You Know What?

I changed EVERTHING. And now everything is fucking amazing.

That is a secret code for those who know, which is like two people.
And I don't even know they read this, really.

So Sunday is the start of a brand new band. Its going to be Blast Yr Fucking Speakers, with Adam, Matt Jones, Jon Z, and myself. I'm hoping the practice on Sunday goes well, as its going to be totally a new endeavor for me. I always worry about working with new people. I felt a little bit of stage fright when Jon and Adam came over yesterday, but that might have been because Alicia was there, and it felt kind of weird just doing something that didn't include her at all. Either way, it was nice just to play with our machinery and see what we can make work.

All I know, is that its going to be the ultimate dance party band. Adam wants it so the music never stops and that its a consistency between songs of some sort of beat. I like the idea. He said, "Basically everything that SoBM and DDB didn't do." Past tense. Hmm.

My lips are really chapped and I'm not anywhere near my Burt's, so I've been suffering thus far for about 7 hours. Note to self, always have a handy tube nearby.

Going to the bar is awkward to say the least lately. I feel like daggers are being stuck into my back by too many eyes. There is nothing I can do about that, nor do I really care. I just know I don't deserve that, and truthfully, would rather have that sort of mitigated attention from that certain person than have a conversation with them. Thank God for small favors.

Change is A Comin'

This blog is getting too blargh.

Let's throw a ray of sunshine in here, lets yes? Lets make it sparkle.

Are you guys getting ready for the apocalypse? I am. I've started stockpiling cans of corn. If there is one thing, in this land of plenty and especially in ohio where cornfields are just outside the city, I'm gonna need corn. Those horsemen are not going to wait for me to boil it in a pot, and add salt. You just microwave the corn and you're set. Then you follow them into the pits of Hell.

Speaking of pits of Hell, one thing that drives me crazy at work is how all my coworkers eat my food. I'm gonna have to put my foot down pretty soon. I mean, I have, but I think I do it too nicely. Its like, yes I brought a bag of black corn tortilla chips to work, but those are for my SOUP later, and I don't want your grimy paws all inside that bag. HANDS OFFFFF. Like for instance, today I brought some cherry cheesecake I made, and I said to everyone, "Hit that up if you'd like some." But I also had some garlic and cheddar bread, which is effin' expensive, 6.50 a loaf, and everyone is all, "Ooooh we'd rather eat that." No. That is for my ham sandwich later. Jesus.

Speaking of, its time for ham sandwichhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hello!

and welcome to my 47th post. I do like the number 47. It feels like a very complete, yet awkward number. Just because the seven is so pointy, but the four is so even. You follow me?

Here's what I was just thinking: When she started acting like she was entitled to something, that is when it became a failure. The fact that she thinks I owed her something, or like, the fact that what we were doing made her have some sort of power over me, no. I have to be in control in a situation like that. Much less forcing the hand? Sitting next to me and confronting me about the stupidest thing ever? I could care less you were at the bar, I was hanging with my friend from out of town. I told her in a text that I was busy. Just because we are in the same room, doesn't mean we're best buddies. I know a lot of people there, and you're just one of them.

I'm not saying that it was a big thing to fail, or that it was going anywhere, but the situation itself just collapsed in on itself. I'm a bit old for mind games, and jealousy, and overt attempts for attention. I'm maybe too single to even mess around with someone. I just need so much space its crazy.

Its cozy.

ridiculous
ridiculous
ridiculous
ridiculous

tonight was.

it was nice to see vanessa. I like looking at her but its hard to coin our old friendship, because she has been living in another city, and its hard to drop back in after so many months of not kindling that very friendship. I mean, I still love her and she's my friend, I just feel a bit awkward around her. I'm sure I will get over that, its just a means of catching up with her.

Otherwise, knife to the gut for everything else, and fucking heart burn anger.

You know, enough time has passed that I'm not sure I even care anymore.

I don't even know what it was about. I mean I do, but I just feel tired about it.

I don't even want to waste energy on it, but everyone keeps bringing it up.

I just want it to go away, but I want it to come back, but its easy to go away.

Its easier to say I don't care, and I don't think I really do care anymore.

I feel like I've moved on, and that might be kind of sad, in its way.

Screen.

When you can't sleep, there's the internet.
When you don't want to sleep, there's the internet.

I'm on the internet.

I'm sick of this _ _ _ _ and that isn't the word shit.

I'm I'm I'm

too old for this.

2 lbs

So I weighed myself upon returning to work, after a long weekend of cooking, fretting, relaxing, reveling, smiling, laughing, and missing sleep, and I found out I gained two pounds within the last 4 days. Now, I know, 2 lbs can be just about anything, but either way, its a wake up call to not eat that cheesecake left over from the dinner party I had.

Woe is me.

Do you think people write the same way they speak? Sometimes I wonder. I was reading someone else's blog and I could put their voice right to it. The funny thing is, we never truly have huge conversations about big subject matter. It just seems to work out deepest on paper. Or screen. Maybe I'm just not the "go to" person for such things. It sometimes is the same way for me, thoughts on paper are easier to explain rather than in person. If you really want to know what I think of you, ask me to write a letter.

I just want you to know that I can't write well today because my hair looks bad.

I kind of wish I didn't have internet at home. I wish that I had it in limited spurts, because I can't control myself on there. I'm going to be late to work, I'm going to make mistakes, I'm going to not go out as much (which might be for the best). There are some people that exist only at the bar for me, friends that I can talk to at the bar, but I wouldn't know if I would want them in my home or even how I would invite them over for something a little less prosaic than drinking a pitcher of pbr. I also want to leave something behind at the bar too. Cryptic, I know. I've just been seeking something more lately. I think I need to leave town for a bit and maybe go visit something or someone.

In other news, I met my neighbor last night. I was cleaning up the water that had leaked everywhere from the bag of ice outside my backdoor and she must have heard me swearing quietly. That or the sweep of the mop. Normally I would have let it just dry, but it was a LOT of water and it was making the linoleum outside the backdoor crack. Let's just say she is pretty darling, and we exchanged numbers so I could show her around Toledo. She seems to be a little bit new age, which always makes me do the puking motion with my mouth, but whatever. Vegetarians, I just don't get it.

She had short orange blonde hair and those stylish plastic frames everyone is wearing. She seemed taller than me, though I had trouble making eye contact because she was a new person and we were having quite a conversation outside my open kitchen door. I finally urged her to look in so in order to get over my embarrassment that she would see my apartment looking like a turkey bomb went off in it without explanation of how. She seemed shocked, and we went into conversation about how to feed a vegan potatoes. "Lots of curry," She said. I don't know about that, but I told her that it was tougher than I thought it would be. Her demeanor was open and nice and she smiled a lot, which I liked.

The last neighbor I became friends with ended awkwardly. She was loud, her dog howled at all hours of the night (in fact it was a party trick for her to show her visitors how she could make it howl by howling at it), and she stole my nice stainless steel pot after I lended it to her. It was funny when she denied it, and a couple months later as I was walking past her apartment back door I saw it through her door window standing upon the stove top.

This girl, though, has been quiet as a mouse to the point where I'm never sure if she is home or not. That and the fact that she doesn't have a car and commutes by bus or bike. Well anyway, as she has lived in the building for months, its interesting to finally have met her.

The Skinny.

The weird thing about losing weight is the mentality that you gain along with it. I mean, lose? For a while I was really excited about losing weight. I felt really cool about it, like on an emotional high and faster and smarter. I felt this one up on the people I work with, I would look scornfully upon them as they ate fast food for lunch, my lip would curl with disdain as they ate french fries.

Then came the week when I felt sorry for myself, when I thought yeah I'm losing weight but I'm not having any fun. That was when those same french fries would smell immaculate, would make my mouth feel like it hadn't tasted anything good in weeks. That was only a week.

I've lost about 13 lbs, and while that doesn't seem like much, its a lot for me. For one, because I was working out too, and I believe that muscle weighs more than fat, or so I'm told. For two, my pants are dropping off of me. I've been mooning the hell out of patients in the ER. I've perfected a sideway crouch down for when I drop a paper so that my ass faces a drawer or a wall.

The weird thing is that I've developed food fetishes and phobias. I don't eat anything unless I know what goes into it or how many calories are in it. I mentally calculate my caloric intake for the day and measure what I can have if I have this, or what I can't have if I have that. I haven't eaten pizza since February (though I think that is in part because of throwing it up last winter because of the flu) and I haven't had fast food in about a year now. Something like that. Those 'golden arches?' Don't give a damn.

The good is that I don't have as bad stomach pains now. My poop regiment (bear with me) is so much better. I think also because I don't drink pop anymore all those high fructose sugars and carmelized food colors and carbonation are less likely to stress out my body. The less oil in food I eat, the better I feel. Even mentally.

Except...the other day I was looking at myself in my bathroom mirror totally bare on top. I felt really fat again. I had just weighed myself the day before at work, so I knew I hadn't gained or lost any weight. It just worried me a little bit, because I don't want this to become an obsession. So what I think is, to spare me any confusion, is that I've become used to the size of my body now. When I was losing weight, I could notice it easily. Now, I'm used to my body at this size so I don't notice any loss anymore. At least that is what I am hoping.

I really love peas, by the by. I have a little more confidence in myself when I go out, but I think its because I have been caring a bit more of what I look like as well. For um, a certain reason.

Ok.

Theengs.

I've become obsessed in the nicest way with butternut squash soup. I crave it. I don't even want to eat anything but it, with some walnuts crushed up into it. Little chunks of nut with sweet soupy warmth. I also like peas. I like peas with a little bit of I can't believe its not butter...spray. I like to talk about food. I kind of want something sweet right now, but I'm not exactly hungry enough for that.

I want to get in my car and drive somewhere by myself and I want it to be warm enough where I can sit outside, but not warm enough where there will be bugs to irritate me. I feel like my brain is exploding with too much right now. Number one, ladies. Ladies ladies ladies. I'm going to write a song called that. Confusing, complicated, ladies. That would be the second line in the song. I feel badly because I'm not being the normal good girl, I'm being somewhat okay with letting someone have second thoughts in a relationship. Anddddd I know thats bad.

I mean, I'm not acting on it, but, and neither is she let's get that straight as a well drawn line, but its teetery tottery too many texts back and forth, too much talking, too much. She has a girlfriend, and that should be that. I should lay down the line and be like, hey, its fun but I'm no longer comfortable with it. Its nice though. I wish we could skip the uncomfortable edge right now and go into being good friends. Its nice to have a mutual attraction with someone.

BUuutututututututututttttttt we aren't doping a... I meant to write doing but doping is funny. We aren't doing anything wrong. It could have happened, but neither of us did anything because we have those oh so pleasant morals. Nice for once I met a girl who has them as well. While inconvenient for a good shebango, its better for the future of my integrity. Yes, it is still intact.

I know I'm vague.

Other other other, last night was crazy with "walrus slaps" and sexy cupcakes and meat sauce with hotdogs. Sheri said she gets The Meat Sweats, which make her greasy but cold. I said we should name a song or album that. Adam, Sheri, and I are starting a band, and we are going to use 1 2 F U. I know, I thought it up and its amazing and I'm well pleased with myself.

He just texted me that the fiery furnaces are playing at frankie's...perhaps I should go.

.....

There's some sort of change in me right now. I don't know. Maybe its the oncoming winter, as fall is already here. I used to think that fall was the perfect time to fall in love, and a lot of my relationships did start in the fall. I think back about the perfect quietness of fall nights, how J and I used to walk to the bar in bowling green, and I would hate the walking because it was quicker just to drive there, but I still secretly enjoyed those walks.

Late night, even when it was so cold that there was a bit of snow on the ground, and she would cuddle me because she could see how cold I was. Then there was that one time with C, when she met me outside of University Hall on campus, and I was so young, God I would never do this now, but right there she rubbed her cheek on mine and it was so cold but her lips were so warm. I miss that kind of love. I wonder if its the type of love of youth, which one can never return to... like I only had one chance at that sort of love and that was it.

Right now I'm listening to Madonna (ok ok stop...hear me out) and its the song Oh Father. Honestly, I think this is a really well written song. The rises in it, the chorus of youngish voices, whenever I hear it I think of my youth and how I dealt with my parents. In a way, with my father. I can't say that when I was younger I had a really good relationship with him. I can't say that now I have any better of a relationship with him. I thought for a minute that things were getting better, but he hurt me again, even when I thought I would never let him into that part of my vulnerability again.

He used to always degrade me as a child. Most of my memories of youth involving him have him screaming at me, raising his fist at me (he never hit me), wishing he never had me. He said that to me and its so vivid, this memory, that all I have to do is open that door in the back of my mind and I'm in that room again, hearing him say it. He used to tell me to stop crying when I would start crying. Now, as an adult, in order for me to cry, the tears have to squeeze themselves out. Crying is actually painful, because the tears will sit like a rock in the back of my throat, will burn behind my eyes. I can actually mostly control crying, since he so ingrained it into me that crying was weak.

We were driving in my car, my mom and I were returning from a wedding shower for my cousin. My dad was in the backseat because he had been sick lately, having palpitations. There was a scary instance where I was at a bookstore and my mother called, and I could hear the cold white fear in her voice, controlled but there, as she told me that my dad had fainted. I left the store and met my mom, where I found my dad on the floor with hardly any clothes on. My mom told me that she had slapped his face, yelled at him and he didn't respond. I knew she thought he was dead when that happened, as he had been having heart problems lately.

After calling the doctor and the doctor thinking he had a stroke, I picked him up under the arm and bodily dragged him to my car, where he threw up as my mom and I drove him to the emergency room. We stayed with him until he was admitted, saw him to his room, and left. He was discharged the next day and put on new heart medication.

Fast forward to a month later, with my mom and I and my dad in the car. He had been lecturing me about my driving for the long trip up to Troy, Michigan, and on the way back, I couldn't take it, and I said I was going to drive my car into the guardrail if he kept up. He started calling me stupid, over and over, and it was like a camera clicked and I was looking at a photo from my childhood. But I wasn't going to take it, and this time, I didn't speak to he and my mom for two months.

It was one of the worst 2 months of my life. The other part of it that sucked so much was that I had no one to talk to about it. The friend that I thought might lend an ear and some kindness was so preoccupied that they didn't even notice that I didn't look like I had slept in weeks. Maybe preoccupied isn't accurate, maybe self centered would make more sense. I felt so incredibly alone. Even in my worst times, I can always talk to my mother and have her comfort me. The other pain was that when I thought my dad and I were getting better, and we were, we were actually having conversations (the novelty!), I had to stop trying to love him again.

I started biking a lot, the loneliness of downtown at midnight matched how I felt, and even when I would stop in somewhere, like the tavern, I wouldn't be able to stay long, because I always felt this restlessness. I don't know if that was entirely because of everything that was going on, but riding made me feel better. I was losing weight because of it and feeling like I was finally giving a damn about my body.

I started talking to my parents again last week. I had stopped by to make a car payment and my dad had opened the front door, telling me that I didn't have to speak to him but I should see my mother. He wouldn't take the money so I went inside and handed it to my mother, but instead she grabbed me by both arms and stared at me, starting to cry. I hated the hurt I had given her. My dad looked thinner. That day my friend KR was coming into town, and all of us spent the day hanging out. I was pretty shaken up, because after my mother had grabbed me like that, I had pushed her arms away and left the house without saying anything.

I was angry, and heartbroken, and full of stupid pride that didn't allow me to accept the apology my dad had given me over the phone in a message he left me. The entire day had me trying to pretend everything was great and alright and doing a pretty good job because no one really said anything, even when I tried to explain what had happened when I went over. It was quickly pushed out of conversation, and I, used to that sort of thing, didn't mention it again.

All of us, E, K, and KR and I went to a restaurant. We were having an alright time, when K said some sharp things to me that I totally felt were uncalled for. I, trying to be a good person, apologized for bringing up what was thought to be inappropriate in the conversation. It was like a pin being shoved into my balloon, it was the damage that whittled away at the wall I had created around the day. For the rest of the meal I tried not to let my face crumble, I ate my food, and E asked me if I was angry. I said no, just tired.

Sitting and waiting for E to bring the car up, K was again sharp with me, and I got up and said I was going to the car. I didn't want anyone to see me crying, and I hoped that KR would ride with E and K, but she ended up running to my car. I apologized, and we had a little bit of a talk while the tears rolled down my cheeks. E and K left without even saying goodbye. I felt humiliated crying in front of KR, and it had to of been uncomfortable for her. She managed it the best she could, I think now of how funny things work out. Someone I hardly see giving me such compassion. It felt nice to be able to talk about things that had been sitting in the pit of my stomach for so long.

I wonder sometimes if I'm just so closed off that no one thinks to ask me how I'm doing, or how anything is anymore. Things have definitely changed between myself and some friends. I don't know how or when, but its a distance. For some reason it makes me second guess everything I do, I sense like people tiptoe around me. Well, certain people. I've always felt like if someone isn't making you happy, whats the point in hanging around for nothing. The bad thing is all the attachments that make it such a difficult break.

Four a.m. thoughts.

Despite everything bad that I may do, I know that God still loves me an awful lot.

Listen.

The wind is every now and then blowing my curtains toward me. Although fall is officially a few days away, the night coolness has been reminding me of the changing of season. I feel like the older I get, the more aware I am of it. Sometimes I have the though to do a video project where I ask people in the hottest of days if they wish it were winter, and also in the coldest of winter if they wish it were summer.

I stay up late because I don't want to go to sleep, that very childlike want to stay up as late as possible despite drooping eyelids and the tiredness of next day. I dragged through the last three days of work, too many hours in the day devoted to work and then not sleeping. It wasn't as if I accomplished much at night, I just didn't want to rest.

I haven't been sleeping well anyway, so it seems pointless to try to do so. I don't know that laying my head on the pillow would change the fact that though I do sleep, I feel the quality of sleep isn't good enough to sustain my energy through the day. I wonder if my change in diet, though better for me, is somehow affecting me detrimentally. I wouldn't think it would be possible, but hey, anything is these days.

Tonight I went and saw some bands play, especially I was waiting for my friends The Retrospectres, and of course, I was blown away by their talent. I felt a mom-like grin on my face, and in my head I kept thinking how I love these boys. Two of them in their forties, but still my boys. Then some girl I only partially recognized came up to me with two somewhat known friends, and they started dancing up front all around, though I was only trying to enjoy the show. I smiled and directed my eyes back up front, trying to ignore their movements. I don't feel like dancing with one's back to the band is nice, that just seems disrespectful. Perhaps it almost seems like redirecting the attention toward themselves. When the mostly unknown girl tried dancing with me, I pointedly looked at my beer which was empty and make the pretense to go get another. On the way, mid through the song, I walked right past the bar and to my car, driving home.

Something about that set me unhappy, though I was smiling through most of the band's set. Oh well, I can be like that, just the odd girl out who doesn't understand the "sexy dance" that girls sometimes do, which to me looks like little girls aping an attempt at being women. That isn't meant to be harsh, I just don't understand it.

You know...

I just want to draw pictures and have people like them but not tell me they like them but just know they like them secretly and then I get paid for it and because of that money I can afford to draw really neat and interesting pictures and everyone is happy children ladies parents moondogs and especially me.

Sometimes.

Sometimes I log in and log out of different social networks, facebook and gmail and twitter. I don't know what I'm looking for, but it seems like the conversation has gone stale. There is no intrique, no new things to see, and it feels like everything that was nicely jumbled up and interesting has settled. That's the worst, isn't it? Settling. I've always hated that-- in relationships, in friends, in fights.

Sometimes I think my friends are settling with what they have, but then I just wonder if I don't understand what they see in people, or jobs, or themselves. I wonder if the people that do well in life are the ones who are never satisfied. But that as well doesn't sound like a good time. Who wants to battle with never feeling full or happy with what you have? I don't know. I just don't want things to be predictable. I wonder if that is what they mean by habit. Maybe I'm learning people's habits, even on a white computer screen. These are stupid questions, really. Who gives a damn.

My friend Alison says you can't say the word scooter without slightly smiling.

Because.

So reminder to self, make a list of things you want to do on your actual first real vacation in 3 years. I know I know, it is only a week off from work, but IT IS A REAL VACATION! So:

Waterville roche de bouef.
Singing Fountains in Grand Haven, Mi.
That t shirt place in Grand Rapids, Oh.
That scary reformatory in Mansfield, Oh.
That delicious chocolate shoppe in " "
Gram's grave.

See? See how I do? I just brought all that down. Just by saying the word GRAVE. Also, an interjection, but my keyboard is immensely sticky. I find this to be glorious and funny and gross at the same time. But, I return from my digression, to say I think I need to talk to Gram. I watched a movie called The Savages which was supposed to be some dark comedy but just ended up being dark and horrible but at least thought provoking. It was about nursing homes.

Laura Linney makes me want to kill myself.

I've had a bottle of maple syrup on my desk for about 2 months now. I haven't used it in that time, as far as I can remember. I was going through a really stiff French toast era, and I'm pretty sure it ended. Someone told me to do powdered sugar and maple syrup, but that sounded like a bunch of glarp with whitish mess. That is like pouring sugar on top of your ice cream cone.

One of my friends started smoking again. I want to say something, and I just casually asked if they had started full time on this, but I didn't feel it my place to pursue the matter. I guess people are old enough to make their decisions and they should realize its just a slow steady movement toward lung cancer. I saw enough of that working in the cancer clinic and I couldn't legitimately keep smoking after seeing people's hair fall out, or their desperation to breathe normally in a day. It wasn't easy to quit, but its doable. It will be three years since my last cigarette in September I believe. Oddly enough I still get cravings and today when a rain storm began during the afternoon, I wanted to go down to the porch and sit there while the rain fell around me but not upon me and breathe in that dirty tobacco dust. Just a passing want.

I'm getting old, you know.

Fun at my friend's away from the computer expense.

Michelle: wanna be on top? na nana na na

15 minutes later.

Michelle: you lose. this is tyra banks. i'm using michelle's computer and wanted to know if you wanted to be on top. obviously you don't. smile with your eyes, tyra.

Chemotherapy Will Make You Grow.

My friend found out this week she has thyroid cancer. She's going to have to have an operation to have a chunk of golf ball sized cancer taken out of her neck and then has to follow it with chemo. The chemo that thyroid patients take basically makes them radioactive. So much to the point that sitting down on a toilet after she's used it could fizzle your fallopian tubes. I'm trying to cheer her up about it.

Michelle: yeah you might be radioactive.

Michelle: you probably will be. its not a big deal, just can't exactly sleep in the same bed with a child. probably a good thing.

Erin: lol right

Erin: i went to the oncologist today and he was like oh yeah you will be radioactive for sure

Michelle: yeah. for thyroid especially.

Erin: the nodule on my thyroid is like golf ball lol nice i suck

Michelle: make sure you flush when you peeeee

Michelle: turn out the lights and watch the bowl glow

Michelle: TO THE EXTREME I ROCK A MIC LIKE A VANDAL!

Erin: lol i wonder about my pets tho

Michelle: you can scream that whenever someone asks you something

Erin: and how come i have to stay away from people yet im fine

Michelle: because you have the power, much like he-man
Michelle: its the power of greyskull.

Michelle: ok?

Michelle: i didnt want to tell you, but i guess i should. they are injecting the power of greyskull in you.

Erin: yesssss

Michelle: you should buy a sword right about now.

Michelle: because you're going to have to use it, to kill terrorists.

Erin: am i going to be the next hiroshima?

Michelle: are you planning any trips to north korea I should know about?