Slow and Steady Saves my Face

What a crazy crazy crazy week. Much of that a good thing, though.

People are coming out of the woodwork in droves. Droves I tell you! From friends who were otherwise occupied for some time to folks that I had no longer considered friends. I've been weighing my options and responses carefully and answering slowly.

One I am still blocking. Protective measures had to be made. There are only so many times I will tolerate some things. I want to be "nice" and I want to rescue (people, animals, relationships, anything) but I can't and won't anymore.

One I am cautiously reconnecting. We'll see where coffee goes.

One I am simply opening the door. Come in, don't come in. It's up to you. You reached out but I'll believe it when I see it. At least I'm not vulnerable there.

On a different note...

I'm proud of myself!! I did decide to drink some last night but I did not get "wasted" and even though there was a cute guy who seemed perhaps interested and who drove me most of the way home (I was going from Brooklyn to Manhattan after all. If he'd driven me any further we'd be in the water, but I wasn't about to ask a perfect stranger to make that trek at 4 in the morning) I didn't kiss him. Not at all! Not a smooch. I gave him a thank-you hug. See? I can be appropriate. Once in a while.

That's the thing. I'm challenging myself to be appropriate, not just for propriety's sake, but for my own ultimate health and happiness. In every arena. Taking anything slow ain't easy for me.

Oooooh m'gosh

It's been awhile. It has always been a while lately. I'm lax.

This latest L.A. venture has been an odd one. It's a mash-up this time between new and old, family and friends. There are moments that remind me "this is why I don't live here." But there are other moments that make that not so clear. I think it's the days. The days in L.A. are not my cup. The nights...the nights are better. Most of the time. Half of the time.

If I lived here, where would I live?

I can't picture living here again. Sometimes, though, I wish I could scoop up certain people, certain places, certain moments, certain nights. I'd scoop them up and take them back with me to where I better belong. I'd drag their tanned asses back to New York...back where it's close and quick...back where I don't have to drive on the freeway and the night doesn't end at 2.

I'm ready for a higher echelon and a caliber of quality. I'm more than ready to say goodbye forever to the trash and the flakes and the draggers and the hangers-on. I'm done with being drained and I'm done with being less. You hear that? I'm welcoming you in, so fucking come on in. And you others? I'm kicking you out. So get the fuck out.

Claptrap and Poop

God what a learning experience the past week or so has been. I've been so busy living it and processing it I haven't had time (or desire) to write about it. For some reason, though, I feel obligated to share some highlights.

Just for a sec, though, I'd like to note how strange that is. Share with whom? The few (very few) people who read this bloody thing already know what's going on, for the most part. Or if they don't...well, of course there are some things I'd love to write about but I can't. I kind of miss being more anonymous on this thingamajig. I feel now that if I write about or to people that know me, without talking to them first, well...that's a little bit passive-aggressive, ya know?

Okay. So my article got killed. We already talked about this, so I can write about it. I'm pissed. I'm disappointed. I somewhat understand the reasoning, but not entirely. I had time and ego invested, so it sorta sucks. I'm not in your shoes, so I can't really know the feelings behind the action. I'm not judging, though. I'm staying on my side of the fence without blame. So those bits of sadness and anger? They're not directed at you, they're just there.

I feel like a dating retard. But then I realize I'm much better at it than I thought I was. Case in point: met a guy, had a connection, went out. Made out. But for some reason didn't let him come home with me. Parts of me wanted to. Very. Specific. Parts. But I didn't. Went out again. Talked on the phone. I quickly realized that the more I got to know him, the less I liked him. I decided that he and I could never date...but we could have some really good sex. So then I had a choice. Did I want to see this guy again solely for the good times and the good times? Considering the only time I thought about him in the last few days was right now, I guess the answer to that is "no".

Found an apartment. Love it love it love it. BUT. I put a bid on it and I still have yet to hear back. They're having an open house tomorrow. I decided not to go because I don't want to witness a bunch of people traipsing through "my" apartment. I really hope it doesn't escalate to a bidding war, because I'm sure I'll LOSE.

Bidding on the apartment brought up a fun little host of issues. I want to move. I don't want to move. I hate my neighborhood. I'm comfy there. My apartment doesn't fit me. I love my space. My street is noisy. I'm going to miss the ruckus. It's just a building. I'm going to miss my super. And my elevator men. I want to move. Do I deserve to move? Am I throwing money away? Should I wait until I'm going to live with somebody so as not to have to go through this all over again? I have to find office space! I can't afford office space. I need more clients. I feel tapped out in pursuing.

Even I find that thought process annoying. I can't imagine how boring it must be to any poor schmuck reading this claptrap.

Alright. I'm off to (finally) write my April newsletter. It's all about poop. Yay for poop!

Picture Peek

Finally got back to NY. Took the redeye (not recommended) on JetBlue (unreliable), although this time I only sat on the runway for 45 minutes rather than 10 and 1/2 hours. Being in the JetBlue terminal at JFK was total PTSD, though.

I worked the Oscar swag suites last Thursday and Friday. That was certainly interesting. It's so easy to get caught up in it all but thank god I kept a bit of cynical distance. What a trip. I was better at it than I thought I would be, but at least my lips didn't get chapped from too much ass-kissing. Granted, I was nicer than I authentically felt towards a few of the "celebs". But I guess that's the game. Some, especially the younger girls, were actually sweethearts. Only one was a royal pain in the ass (I'm talking to you, former Laverne & Shirley cast member. You're just plain mean lady.)

But the point of this post is the pictures. Wow, that was some alliteration there. Most of these are Joie photos, of course, as I was mainly documenting the migration. I'm not posting any of his show photos. You can see those over on Joie's blog. So here we go:

Forgot to post this one from the Maryland airport. Still can't believe we went to frigging Maryland in order to fly to L.A. Kee-razy.

Tuggin' luggage.

He looks all suspicious in the doorway

Texty in the Starbucksy

Out with my friends. Little Lindsay is getting married! To a great guy, Jason, who is sitting on the left there. After this photo we went to go see Jason play at the Viper room. Liked the venue a lot. Better than the Whiskey, that's for sure. You know what? They confiscated my gum at the Whiskey! My gum! Dangerous gum...

I seriously don't remember where I took this picture.

Pre-gig. Watching Joie do his eyeliner in the parking lot across from the Rainbow was hee-larious.

I like this photo. All moody and junk.

I've never seen anyone get so lounge-y and comfy in a passenger seat.

I think I've created a Carl's Jr. monster. Nah, he's probably back to staying away from fast food and carbs already.

I'm all teary-eyed behind the sunglasses. Thank god for sunglasses.

He's carting all his worldly possessions into his new place.

While I sit in the car and mope.

He keeps carting.

And I keep moping.

Moooooooopppppppee.

One last photo, with my eyes all glassy from crying.

And he waves bye-bye...

This is proving to be a difficult adjustment. I'm in grief right now. I'm a little (a little) surprised at how hard it was and is. I thought that after so many days together, we'd probably drive each other totally nuts and I'd be glad to go. But instead it was easier and more fun every day (even with my periodic crankiness or daily dose of eye-tearing). So, yeah, it's a toughie.

But I love my friend, and I want for him what makes him happy.

Heroic Stoic I'm Not

Crying easily and frequently and I don't like it. Not one little bit.

It feels out of control although I know it's not and it's natural. But really the only thing that is easy right now are those ready tears.

People, to me, are more than just their individual selves. Especially the men. Each man is not just a singular entity, but also representative of so much more. Not just other men, but also hopes, dreams, emotions...

So often they represent what is missing and not what is.

But is it really that they represent the lack? Perhaps it is instead that their presence serves to highlight what is in fact not present. I'm present...but very little else is.

And others? Others are miles and decades away. They're in the future or in the past: two states which I am guilty of frequenting as well. But not now. Now...I may not know where I am, but at least I know when.

Your questions are hard, sometimes; and sometimes they're not so nice. But yes, those things that are missing... Well, they are they are. That's not to say I'm incomplete. Maybe I am incomplete. I'm not looking for something else to fill that, though. I am looking for something else, but... Oh Christ I'm tripping over my own tongue (my own typing?) and hardly making any sense.

I had other things to say. I even wrote them down. Suddenly I'm clamming up. I wear my heart on my sleeve and my emotions are written all over my face in thick Sharpie. I wish I were a better liar.

I gently coax others out of stoicism; but right now I see their point.

Photo Update

The story so far (in photos)

Trapped on a plane for 11 hours...trapped in an airport for 29. We went from hostages to refugees.

We camped.

And camped.

And slept. I love this photo.

Shocked as shit to be in L.A. and already texting.

Going to my folks' house or going to the prom?

Rock star times two.

Is it happiness or delirium?

A little overtired and not even there for 4 hours yet and we're already headed out.

Never thought I'd see pale East Village boy on the beach. He's actually starting to get a little color.

I nullify veto power. Cuz I LIKE this pic.

Spooooky.

Wonder what tomorrow will bring...

What A Long Strange Trip It Still Is

I have pictures pictures pictures But not yet not yet not yet.

That's the problem with this house...my laptop to internet connection kinda blows.

You know what else kinda blows? The fact that I was stuck on the runway at JFK for almost eleven hours. Yeah, ya heard me. Joie and I were on one of those horrible JetBlue flights. JetBlows. Then we spent the night on the floor of the airport. Mmmm...JFK carpet. THEN we spent the next morning fighting through more lines (the lines the lines oh god so many lines). We gave up eventually and headed back to my place. Got some sleep thanks to Benadryl and then headed out in the cover of darkness for Maryland. Maryland! Because THAT WAS THE ONLY FLIGHT WE COULD GET. We went from Maryland to LAX. Fiasco is one word. Dumbass is another.

You've never lived until you've heard a pilot announce over the intercom:

Uh, folks? Our toilet tanks are at about 99% capacity right now. So, if you don't mind...anything less than "Number Two", PLEASE DON'T FLUSH.

Dude.

But we made it. I think my bodyclock is still adjusting. It's not even jetlag. It got to a point where my entire sense of time and place was fucked. Time was just a number. (Age ain't nothin' but a number, man.)

But now we're in LA LA Land. Strange place, this. Strange stuff, this. Here I am helping my friend do what I don't want him to do. I don't want him to move. Not at all. I want him to stay in NY and be my friend and live happily ever after. But what am I going to do, throw roadblocks in his path? No. I want the people I love to be happy, even if their choice is not my choice. So I'm helping. It's a bit of a mindfuck, though.

We've done so much already and we've only been here two and a half days. And there's still so much to do. Plus now my own opportunities to explore. I'll be sittin' with swag at the Kodak theatre Thursday and Friday. And I'm more determined than ever to develop the next workshop. The standalone.

But there are multiple conundrums. Conundri? Priorities and timelines are kicking my ass a little bit. Then we get into the essence of it altogether: what the fuck is it, even? Because I don't know what I'm working towards and it sure as hell don't spark me. Sometimes it does. Little sparks. Glimpses of the sparkly possibilities. But just...not.

Time and time again I've said that I don't care
That I'm immune to gloom, that I'm hard through and through
But every time it matters all my words desert me
And anyone can hurt me
And they do
So what happens now?
So what happens now?
Where am I going to?
Where am I going to?
Call in three months' time and I'll be fine, I know
Well maybe not that fine, but I'll survive anyhow
I won't recall the names and faces of this sad occasion
But that's no consolation here and now
So what happens now?
So what happens now?
Where am I going to?
Where am I going to?

Okay, that's not exactly appropriate and it's not exactly the whole song, but there are a few lines in there that fit really fucking well. See if you can figure out which ones. You get a lollipop if you guess right.

Practice Makes Possible

This has been a most interesting time. I feel in a way like I'm in rehearsal. This is practice for something else later on. I'm doing the prep work, that's for sure

I do believe that I'm setting the energetic stage - on more than just one level, too. Let's hope I'm not just spinning my wheels and that there is something else coming my way. I've grown far past effusive navel-gazing and intellectual masturbation. Well, maybe not the latter. I am writing this, after all.

But this better not be another pointless act. There's only so many times I can stomach that.

So. Working towards something, then? Oh bloody hell. What? Fuck the vision board, though, at least. That kind of claptrap makes me so frustrated. Perhaps its the cynical mind talking, but I just don't see how I would find it inspirational. It sounds demanding to me. Demanding of me.

You know what? The only thing I want right now is everything. That's not too much, is it? Or perhaps at the very least, my own table. My own space. Sometimes that IS too much to ask, though, I'm finding.

Texting Is Dangerous

I have a new roommate! First time I've had a houseguest for longer than a few days in...years! Good thing he's the bestest. And a sound sleeper! I always worries that my kitties (well, Willa) will wake guests. She meows so frigging loudly in the mornings. I'm good at ignoring her when I'm the only one here, but when someone else is in the apartment, I'm hypersensitive to her caterwauling.

Appropos of nothing: I'm...er...lonely in a specific way.

Texting is dangerous.

Oy.

Cool Kudos

Someone I've never met before (but who also got certified through IIN) sent me this message:

Hi Trish,
Just wanted to say hello, and tell you I looked at your website, and woweee, young beautiful woman, you have done some major changes in your life.
What a challenge and struggle, I am sure.
I am very impressed with your website, and all you have done.
My sincere congratulations to you. It never ceases to amaze me the struggles people overcome and the brilliant work that follows.
As a long time health care Registered Nurse in every walk of health care, I say, indeed it is a pleasure and welcome event to have you in the wellness arena.
Thanks for your solid and strong efforts toward change, for the many lives you have changed and the many more to come.

Wowzers, yeah?

Yeah. That was pretty cool. Between that and the kudos I got form a client earlier today, my inspiration is ticking along nicely. It's easier to cope with a reduced client schedule and light workshop signup when the people I do reach appreciate my efforts like this.

It's easy to get swept up, isn't it? So easy to drown in the tasks of the day. It's so easy to think only about the problems that need solving, rather than celebrating what has already been accomplished.

Let that be a reminder to you. You aren't going to sprain your shoulder by patting yourself on the back once in a while. It's allowed and well deserved.

Slimy Noses

It's really nice to have friends like this. Even though they're crazy. Or maybe especially cuz.

That's All? That's A Lot.

There are so many things going on...where to start?

I've been having houseguests lately. Well, just one repeated houseguest. And it's easy! First, they are a very good houseguest. But also, I'm not the neurotic control freak I once was. I recall far too easily the anxiety that would rise up when the possibility of a houseguest was in the works. "How would I have my morning? How would I watch TV? How would I go to the bathroom? (Okay, that one is still a problem. I get potty-shy.) Would they eat my food? Would they be messy? My life was going to be totally disrupted and I would never recover and I would die!!!!"

Yeah. I know. But that was the least of the craziness going on in this noggin.

So anyway, I don't feel that anymore. What a frigging relief! The ease is what makes me so happy. Of course having someone new in your house is a disruption...but it isn't a DISRUPTION. It's doable, manageable, and actually quite a bit of fun. I must say, I am more productive when someone else is around. I'm far less likely to be a lazy lump. Because it's embarassing.

Okay, what else...

Oh yeah...IT WAS ALWAYS HIM AND IT WAS NEVER ME!!! What a douchebag. Had a conversation yesterday with someone I should really try and avoid at all costs. Toxic doesn't even begin to describe him. But anyway. I always fall into a position of defensiveness and justification when I speak with him. What still pisses me off to no end is that when I first see him (or even someone who looks like him) my heart skips a little beat. But the very next second the words "giant cocksucker" float into my consciousness, so that's okay then.

I have so many things on my mind right now, it's hard to boil it down. And it's hard to remember to do everything that needs to be done. A partial list:

• Write back to the myriad friends who have emailed or myspaced or texted me
• File my DBA in NY (only a year late)
• Fix my finances
• Advertise (build a brochure, network, set up tables, utilize my connections and resources)
• Find and rent office space
• Find a buy a new apartment
• Do my bloody errands (lame shit like buying toothpaste)
• Shop for clothes (not fun. I don't like to shop but I have no clothes.)
• Research and prep my workshop (this entails so many steps I don't even want to think about it)
• Clean/straighten/organize everything
• Go food shopping. I have some old broccoli and kale in the fridge and that's about it.
• Try to remember all the other things I keep forgetting to do and finally do them so I don't stay up until 3 in the morning worrying about what I'm forgetting to do.

That's all.

Gingerbread House 2006!!!

Awwwwwweeeeee Yeeeeeeaaaaahhhh!

It's Gingerbread House time again.

If you'll remember...Lisa and I have a long-standing tradition of Gingerbread House-ery. It doesn't usually happen prior to Christmas, but as long as we tackle it before the New Year, it counts. Last year's effort was a "House of Debauchery". (Previous efforts included "Alien Crash-Landing" and "Santa in a Mack Truck"). This year was less subversive and more...pastel. Please remember, however, that the purpose of building the gingerbread creations is not great artwork...it's all about the sugar high.

Without further ado, I give you...

The Gingerbread Carousel of Wonder!!!

Here we have Lisa kneading the dough for the gingerbread. Yes, this is the first year we've made our own and didn't just trim some pre-made panels from a kit. It was surprisingly easy. Actually, I think it was easier, as we were able to make exactly the shapes we needed. Please note how she divided and shaped the dough as an exact replica of her ta-tas.
Her large, brown, crumbly ta-tas.

Again with the Lisa and the sexy things. Seriously, girl...control yourself! Sheesh...

Finally she gets down to work!

We've barely begun and we're already taking horrible self-portraits under the influence of Devil Sugar.

Top view of the Carousel in mid-construction. Those tiny pastel colored non-pariels were soooo good. They were white chocolate and minty with just a little bit of crunch from the little white sprinkly thingies. Candy? What candy?

Rock on. Last year it was me with gummy coke bottles up my nose. I'm so proud of Lisa for carrying on this year with dual nostril candy cane poles plus the lipped arch. Nice.

And here's the pretty pretty carousel. The final product had candy cane poles with circus animal...well, animals...aaaand candy cane fence with a sugar wafer walkway and a big Santa at the carousel controls and a gummy sugar santa sitting on a bench watching and a mommy gingerbread lady looking on and a gummy sugar tree and another bench aaaaaaand...that was a kick-ass run-on.

Imagine you are a teeny tiny gingerbread kid walking up to board the ride. Fun, right?

Overhead shot.

Closeup near Santa at the controls.

Yes, Rocky Horror was playing while we constructed. That was only after we watched Disney's Sword in the Stone. Hockety-pockety.

Gratuitous anatomically correct gingerbread people in the rack shot! Yippee!

Gratuitous sugar gummy Chimney Santa in Lisa's rack shot! Sweet!

So goes another year of yummy architectural goodies. Tummy aches can be worth it sometimes.

If You Get It, You Get It

1. I love you to pieces but sometimes I think you're a lot like her. But, I gotta' say, you constantly surprise me. You always show up for me. You are forever and a day. You want to grow and that is wonderful. I didn't think it would be as good as it is...but it is.
2. You I barely have words for. Cherished SFOM I suppose (to steal your terms). Like the sibling I never had; a bit of yin and yang sometimes. Challenging as hell and I wouldn't have it any other way. I have known and will know you forever.
3. Interesting character, you. Not quite sure where you stand or where I stand. Sometimes I can't hear you at all. Sometimes I wonder if you can hear me. Or what you hear. Or what you see.
4. I hope a lot for you. I hope you are able to become the person you want to be. I hope you find relief. I hope you realize your worth. I hope you let go.
5. No offense intended, but you're there because I don't want others to be.
6. Where are you? I forget you exist sometimes; isn't that odd? I would have thought that lives would intertwine a little bit more than they do. But they don't. That's okay; it's kind of nice the way things are.
7. Oh boy. I wish you wouldn't; but you do. I can't believe it and I can't support it. But I support you. I try. What is there to say, though? I don't like having to lie. It isn't comfortable to hold back and I'm not great at halting my words.
8. What the hell happened to you? It's sad; you're sad. The balance between pity and love has shifted in a direction I'm sure you don't want it to go. But look at you. How can you repeatedly sink and fall and trip and crash? How can you not desire better? I can only do so much before I get infected and I simply can't go there.

So there they are. I love them all, despite their flaws (or maybe because of them). There are more, of course. But not in pictures easily found.

Blah Blah Me Me Me

Hmm...some update-y thingies:

So my granma's out of the loony bin. I asked my mom if she was lucid and sane now and she answered "as much as she ever was". Hee.

I was blessed with a free ticket to a Krishna Das private concert. Freaking awesome. And kinda coolio that last weekend was a Guns N' Roses concert and this week it's kirtans. Neat-o.

My phone is going bonkers coo-coo cocopuffs. A couple weeks ago it erased my calendar. The other day it erased all my contact numbers. Now it is having trouble syncing at all. Mercury goes out of retrograde November 17th. November 17th.......

Surge-urge-ury is coming up. I'm excited and scared and nervous and happy and sad and curious and lots of stuff. I'm not good at asking for help and I'm going to need a lot of it. I know my friends love me and will do what they can, but I also know I'm going to have to rely on them more than I think they realize. I'm not going to be able to vacuum or do laundry or change the litter box or pack my suitcase for Christmas or anyfing. I'm afraid that I'm going to be left to my own devices too much. It's a very "alone" feeling. Not lonely exactly. Alone. That's what happens when you go through something major like this and don't have family around or a mate. Since I was teeny tiny I've always said "All by mine self". Well, I can't do this by mine self. Hardly at all. There's also this thing that because this is an elective surgery and not a "have to", I feel almost like I don't have a right to ask for help. Like, if it were open heart surgery or something I had to had to had to have, then I could ask for help. But because it is what it is and it isn't necessary for survival, then I can't.

Then there is the matter of Thanksgiving. And my lack of plans. Something always turns up, but this time it hasn't. Kind of strange. I hope I'm okay if nothing occurs. I mean, I think I will be, but I don't want to start feeling sorry for myself or something stoopidly lame like that. That whole "feeling sorry for myself" thing is boring. Bo-ring.

I've been signing a handful of new clients lately which is cool cool cool. Makes me quite aware that I need to continue doing workshops and teleclasses and such. Perhaps more frequently. Maybe while I'm recovering I'll do some planning/prep on that front. I'll have to fill my time with something, right? More than Netflix, that is.

Alrighty. Tha's that for now.

Working Woman...Wow!

Okay, seriously? This is lame, but I have to brag. Yes, brag. It is 11 pm on a Saturday night and I have spent the last six hours...working! For work. Like, on my computer. But not at a cafe, which is usually the case (I'm hopelessly distracted at home). I've been working! Yay me!

I know for most, this isn't such a humongous accomplishment. And, sure, I do plenty of work without the need to report it. But it's Saturday. And I hadn't planned or scheduled to work. Usually when I don't consciously set the time aside, it just don't happen.

So. Is this lame because I'm working on a Saturday night? Or is it lame because I'm so darned proud of it? Mmm...probably both. It's a little super-lame. I don't care.

Know what's not lame? I was interviewed to be written about in a book. A whole article plus a bio with contacts. That's not lame. Know what else isn't lame? I was contacted by a publishing editor to do some freelance writing for industry magazines. Also not lame.

My friends are excelling, too. I'm SO proud and happy for them. New jobs, new school, new opportunities, new ventures, new outlooks. So lovely...

It's An Update

Oh my God, two posts in one day? Is the world gonna' implode?

Yay. This is what I do when I'm sick of working and want to take a break, but don't want to leave my computer for fear I won't get motivated to return and continue chugging along.

I promised updates. Updates updates... *sigh* It's been...full lately.

I've been leading the fall cleanse this week. It has been an amazingly rewarding experience (as always) but it's also a lot of pressure. And of course I want to do it "right" and "great" and whatever whatever. But in addition to supporting all the people going through the cleanse (who can't or won't limit their support needs to the email group and have been sending personal emails and needing phone calls and such), a couple friends are going through a lot right now too. A lot a lot. Big a lot. So, many hours have been spent there too. I'm glad to be able to be there for people, I truly am. But I'm feeling quite alone right now. A few of my support structure - for various and sundry reasons - are not available to me right now. Overloaded themselves or simply absent, I'm unable to call them with my needs. Coupled with my increasing distance from my family (much needed, of course)...well, let's just say I'm very well aware that I am on my own.

I decided I needed to get back on coffee after 5 days without it. Day two sans caffeine was a BITCH. But my lightheadedness and near-blackouts came back when I was off the java. I think that the caffeine was keeping my blood pressure elevated to *normal* levels. Yay for the drug in a mug!

Good things on the career front: So many people are interested in doing the cleanse that I'm running it again in November. Plus, it's New! and Improved! Yippee. AND I have a new niche market I want to pursue. Not sure how to pursue them yet, but I'm puttin' it out there in the universe: I want to be the holistic counselor and Reiki practitioner that rock musicians turn to. I want to be called out to tour buses and have tattooed and leather-clad dudes laying on my massage table. I want to rock out at the shows and help them collect healthier snacks for backstage. How freaking AWESOME would that be? I'm puttin' it out there puttin' it out there puttin' it out there....

The weather on Halloween is supposed to be nice. Yay! Wasn't looking forward to freezing my ta-tas off. Not before slice and dice, ya?

Found myself lingering at the gym the other day. Bleah. What the fuck is up with THAT? I must like picking my own wounds, huh? No surprise I guess. Sometimes I annoy myself.

I'm also putting out in the universe that I need to find a freaking apartment!!! People are now becoming very drawn to my abode, but I can't find one that fits me. Eep! I gotsta'.

Kay, I'm not interested in writing about myself anymore. Ciao kiddies.

These Pics are a Couple Weeks Old But...

I thought I'd share. Been meaning to for awhile but have been bizzeee. Which is good. Next post will talk all 'bout that. Maybe. :)

We went a-partyin'. Yay!

Rani and I dance like freaks. We do. It's okay.

But at least we love each other...

Oh yes we do!

Like you needed more proof?

Sexy girlies! Me, Rani, and Rachel

That's more like it!

I swear to god I'm going to have T-shirts made that say "Mutual Admiration Society". It's ridonkulous.

So silly!

Kay, this is not as dirty as it looks. Oh, wait. Yes it is.

Yes, we are all laying on a bed. At "Bed". It's a New York thing. (More like a B&T thing, to tell the truth.)

Okay, this is as bad as it looks, too. Hee...

'Twas fun...