FML

Things I've been addicted to:
1. Reading those damn "25 things about me" notes on Facebook. I like reading those things; many things about my friends amuse me. However, I absolutely refuse to post one of those notes because it just seems awkward for me to post stuff for ANY one to read, even if I just tag the people that are near and dear to my heart. Creepers. I fear them. Hypocritical, I know.
2. fmylife.com <- this site is hilarious. This past week has been crazy, and this site + failblog.org make me feel better, among some other things and some people.
3. articles from feministing.com ; there was a post this past week with a picture of two very happy looking people wearing tshirts that said "ex-masturbator". apparently there's a group that makes a whole line of these kinds of tshirts - "ex-diva", "ex-hypocrite", "ex-atheist", etc. My favorite? "ex-fornicator", hands down. To anyone who has that shirt, I'd just love to ask, "So when did sex stop being fun?"
4. Really rich hot chocolate. I'm pro at making this stuff from scatch. Not the milk or the chocolate, but the hot chocolate. No powdered stuff for me!
5. The L Word. I. Love. This. Show. I found a site where I can watch all the episodes and I'm so addicted it's not even funny. And I have a crush on Shane. And maybe Bette. But definitely Shane.

Complications:
1. Family - the usual and the not so usual.
2. Still feeling burnt out from last quarter.
3. Feeling hopelessly frustrated writing sometimes and sometimes all the time.
4. Experiencing feelings/emotions that scare me.
5. I keep eating nuts and sometimes stuff with eggs and even mushrooms even though I'm supposed to stay away. And then I develop rashes that bug the shit out of me. Damn.



I ran to the place where books are stacked glass
Reflecting the marbled sky
-Cornflower blue peeping from behind
Unbleached spun sugar cotton- Freedom!

I took a turn and headed for the canyon.
As I descended I was met with a vision of flaming orange yellow,
Lightly veiled by the descending curtain of tears from the clouds above,
Blessing the hills with a last glorious touch.

I wished I could fly to that distant horizon,
Succeeding where Icarus failed.
But I had not even his courage - fearing the impossible heights and the impossible fall-
And ran, half drowned in regret, back to my four-walled prison