As I went to a speaker meeting in a friends store…
I was bout to embark on a journey where I would see deeply into another humans
soul.

When she asked me about him today,

It lit up my soul to even think about him.

No body knows how much I loved that man….

To top shit off... after a shit
filled day...

I come home to discover more SHIT.



My Single White Female...

(everyone who knows me knows who this is, and her infamous stories...)

Shes at it again!

NO JOKE!



Let me do the count down...

she now has ripped off the fallowing tattoos from me...

1.) Virgin de Guadalupe tattoo, on the same arm... same place.

2.) Dia De Los Muertos tattoo...

3.) My CUPCAKE TATTOO (and on the same spot on her neck)

4.) Stitches around the wrist.

I spent all day in therapy (yeah!? So what?!) this
morning talking about Poo.

I kid you not. Poo.

Something was off.
And not in an obvious way...
But in an off way.

It felt like the air itself stood still.
My lungs could not even expand.
It was like time stopped for just one moment for me to sit and think....
Really think about it.

I sat there and tried to see what it was I was suppose to think about, what it was the universe, or whatever it was wanted me to see.

I stopped to smell the roses... But I began to see that my nose was clogged.

It was off.
I couldn't pick up on it.
I knew it was there... Some big ambiguous meaning... But I didn't know what it was!

What would Gidget do?
Its sometimes something I ask myself in a situation where I am overwhelmed with life.

I sat alone in the back of work crying my eyes out today. I thought about everything and as the pit of my stomach ached and I felt like I was going to vomit the most vile of blood.. I asked myself what Gidget would say to me right now.

Everyone has a guardian angel. Some people never think about theirs. Some people lose a family member or a friend and hope they will forever be close by. Gidget is my angel.
After he died I had dreams where he would come speak to me.

I have recently discovered the way
to get people to notice you.

Everyone wants people to ask them
out. Everyone wants to be hit on at the grocery store, the gas station, and
even a bar. Even if its by the grossest person, or the Fabio of the joint… it
doesn’t matter. It’s a spoon full of sweet sweet validation, and it slides down
our throats like warm butter.

Tonights been the first night in a long time that I would have loved to have drank.

The end.

My Paul took it upon himself to send out a message to an unsuspecting admirer on Plenty of Fish.com.

As he laughed in the corner I ignored him.
he of course does not respond to being ignored well... So I hear amung the laughs...

"hey... hey.... come read this.... tell me what you think."

I walk over thinking its going to be something stupid that someone sent him.
When I see that it is the Plenty of Fish website, and its the inbox... I realize it is a message he just wrote...


  

It felt good to be in my billowing
sanctuary, because the night before I spent the night in a children’s tent.