I dont know why I get sick right before I travel and when I return from traveling. I have my mother's curse of Homeboundinitis. She has always hated leaving the house for extended period of times. She used to bring her own sheets, pillows, and other random crap. We called her crazy. I've become my mother.

At what point in your life do you realize that you're the product of your parents, mainly the crazy part? I feel like parents should never reveal their weaknesses. They are supposed to be super and powerful and have zero faults. I want to live a life of ignorance and bliss damnit!

My intellectual prowess has diminished into a pile of decomposing maple leaves...rotting in the gutter of a main cross street.

I finished watching the twenty or so dvds left over from the summer, I finished Wicked left over from the summer, and now it's time to wrap up a relationship from over the summer. Spring is around da corner and you know what that means, (other people's) hormones a buzzin and (my) hibernation period will be over.

It's 60 degrees in Palo today, 60 and freaking raining. It's been raining for two weeks straight here. I feel like I'm in North Carolina. Mother of pearl. This has put a damper on my "explore California" time. No, actually, what killed The Exploration was the jackass who stole my bike. Ass. Still not over it. Sorry, I biked everyday, if you can imagine.

Now, let's talk about Spring Fever. Yes, I jump ahead of myself, including seasons. Remember last spring when everyone and their brother (not my brother), decided to get hitched to another being, decent and indecent. I wonder what this spring will hold. I hope there are no breakdancers who shave their extremeties or guys who wear purple floral shirts or singles who have babymommas in their lives.


I'm starting to make eye contact with guys around here. It's hard because usually I'm looking like complete shit. I know I should really put on makeup and do my hair when I'm running errands around town, especially now because I have time, but every fiber of my body rejects the idea. All the men are wearing suits and I'm wearing sweats. There is no way I'm dirtyin my nice clothes if I'm picking up eggs from the nearest convenient store. I mean, that's more laundry for me to do later. I should outline the cost and benefits of doing laundry versus finding someone who will be able to pay someone else to do my laundry.

i'm mad but i dont want to type out why. BAH!

on a bright note, ive read like 15 books in the past two weeks.

meaning, i quit on life, damnit! my life. i will succumb to the insigificant life of a housewife. my identity will be defined by my husband's career and salary.

i quit. i want to be a housewife. cook, shop, clean, have lunch dates, work out, buy cars, bake, decorate. that is the life for me.

who the hell voted bono as one of the most influential people?