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How the hell am I going to recognize Chantily in three weeks? Am I going to have to ask her to wear a thong and bend over just so I recognize who she is?

Sounds like a great idea to me.![]()

I dreamt about sex with a guy last night. It was odd. I don't think I want to take that experimentalism into real life.

[whines] You're not gonna tell? [/whine]
Someone just tracked down my livejournal to tell me that they wanted to read part four of my Over the Sink series. Lit feedback and email wasn't good enough for them?![]()

I'm home alone! I'm home alone! I'm home alone!
Kidlets went back to school today! I think I'll do the home alone dance.![]()
Is that the one where you run around naked through every room of the house?

It's like... she's me, only better. It makes me feel inadequate, miserable, depressed, and worst of all, every time I'm confronted with it again, I stop being able to write a single line. It's been going on for months. I can't deal with this. I feel helpless and part of me just wants to leave this place because maybe that way, I'll be able to write again. That part gets bigger every time the writer's block happens again. What the fuck is wrong with me that I let this affect me so much?
I don't want to be around them, and I hate myself because I SHOULD want to.
It never ever ever ever ever ever fails...they bring the flag down and I cry. That torch goes out and I sob. It's been that way since Calgary.
Good god, have I been crying at the Olympics for 20 years now?
So close, yet so fucking far.
Damn.
:sigh:
I don't want to know any more.

Good luck. *HUGS*Making an offer on the house today. I'm nervous. Wish me luck?
Making an offer on the house today. I'm nervous. Wish me luck?

