Goodbye Year of the Queers!

As I embark on my first alcohol-filled New Years, I would like to wish all of you out there in Journal Land to have a safe, drunken New Year. And I would also like to say a thank you in advance to Guiness, Ameretto Sours and of course, Asti. Hey, I'm classy, what can I say?

Goodnight, Sleepy Mind

Since I'm on a hiatus from school, my daily routine has changed dramatically. For me, the sun doesn't rise until 12:00p.m., when I wake up. It doesn't set until 4:00a.m., when I attempt to sleep. The soft green light of my stereo illuminates my bedroom, causing shadow figures to dance across my walls and keep me entertained while I try to lull myself to sleep. Josh Groban is usually the lullaby of choice, though his music just causes my mind to wander over wedding days and honeymoons and first dances and heartbreak. At some point I realize my eyes may be closed, but my mind is never asleep.

The Lifesized Dictionary

I've decided the word "ponder" came about  when 2 men went fishing on a small pond in thier canoe. There, they wondered and talked about the meaning of life and decided to call that "pondering."

Joe Camel Would Be Proud

In an otherwise uneventful day, I smoked myself silly with one of my friends.

I only do it when I'm frustrated. And I am.

I'm a girl and I have needs. I want a big house, a wonderful husband, a little baby and a happy little existence.

The plan isn't going accordingly.

There's no guy to be found. There's no one even half decent. So the baby is out of the question, too.

As for the house? Not much of a dream home can be purchased with $4000. And since I want a beautiful old Victorian to fix up or a brand new
house built just for me (I'd be happy either way) there's no chance in hell that'll be happening anytime soon.

My happy little existence?

It's lonely here.

Better Than Yoplait

I would like to thank the Academy.

And Sean for all the sex.

Have a steamy, sex-filled day. I know I will.

Move Over, Pavarotti

Josh Groban is a fine human being.

For those of you who aren't "in the know," Josh Groban is a beautiful young man with a voice that can make you have a tiny orgasm just by listening to him sing.

He sings, "To Where You Are," a superb ballad that makes me wet myself with pleasure and also the renowned, "You're Still You," which causes a stream of uncontrollable giggles and rosy cheeks.

Santy Claus brought me Josh's CD for Christmas and to thank him, he's going to recieve a coupon for Peppridge Farm Goldfish (tm) at his home in the North Pole to express my gratitude.

My Life, the Unromantic Comedy

If romantic movies make me bawl and bawl my eyes out, why do I watch them?

I'll tell you why.

I watch them because that's the only romance I'm getting. So what if it's Marisa Tomei or Charlize Theron on the recieving end of what I want and so what if they're getting it from Robert Downey, Jr. or Keanu Reeves (plank with an angry face on it. Thanks Mr. Subliminal.)

My life is an Unromantic Comedy. Of the 3 jackasses I dated, I have not had one romantic gesture. I mean sure it was nice when Anthony took me out to dinner and a movie on Valentine's Day, but that was counteracted when he actually fell asleep as soon as the previews were over. Also we had plans to go to a fancy-schmancy hotel that night but he cheaped out, as usual.

Next there's the ex-ex Mike. He forgot our 6 month anniversary (it was a big deal then) so the next month he bought me 6 red roses and put them in my locker at school. Sweet right? No. Not after one of his friends busted in my class and said "Marissa you have the sweetest boyfriend in the world! Go to your locker! Go!" She literally scooted me out the door. There goes that romantic gesture. Right down the toidy with the relationship.

Finally, the ex-ex-ex Bill. He just plain didn't know what romance was. Or sex for that matter. ("Um, what just happened?" Bill, with his 14 year old penis in his hand.)

So why can't I watch these movies and cry at the pure sappiness of them? Can't a girl dream? And hey, it's only 2 hours out of my life.