i disappeared for the last couple of weeks and a certain friend was convinced that i had checked myself in to re-hab... she was not convinced i had been committed, thank you... she knew better; they couldn't catch me if they tried. vodka makes me fast.
i was merely living life, folks. you know- kissing boys, teaching writing, downloading over 6000 songs to my new ipod. the last wore me out for at least a day. i desire firewire.
as for my love life, i have a new moniker- kyhugandkiss. it seems i can't seal the deal. i never knew that i had a conscience or a set of morals (see my college diary).
wow- the things you learn in your thirtieth year. it seems no matter how many nights i go out, imbibe 7 or 8 cocktails on the rocks, and pout my lower lip at the opposite sex, i puss out (ha ha, not really). i've had some good offers, too- as if you couldn't tell from my attached blog photo. celibacy has not always been the case. i am so pissed my mom gave me "our bodies, ourselves" in early college; finally, visions of sugar plum fairies and fever blisters dance through my head.
and everyone i know can hook up and sweep that shit under the covers; as i am the local priestess for sex confessionals, i have learned things that have made me turn a little green (which is a feat). i had no idea that good little girls could do the things they do. a word of warning- the dirtier her mouth, the cleaner her wassa. and vice versa. i am definately going to troll for men at tatoo parlors- at least they probably test themselves for AIDS, with the constant needle fondling and all.
sadly, i think my shit glitters, and i am the only one prom enough to polish it. wax on. wax off.
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