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I’m so meaning to write something here, but I’ve been busy, my head’s been up my ass, I’m lazy, real life has been breaking down my door, or uuuuuuugggggghhhhhhhhh.

I swear I’ll write tomorrow.  Seriously.  I have shit to talk about.  I really do.  Read the archives or something.  This blog used to be good, I swear.

Shit.

My Chapter 1 Playlist

I made a playlist that represents the first chapter of my book (look over on the side there).  Enjoy the music while I get my next post together.  I’ll be discussing love, sex, marriage, selfishness, and why I hate the way certain women think.

Kisses and see ya tomorrow.

…just not on this blog.  I’ve been writing my book.  Seriously…I’ve been writing a couple hours a night and I’m almost finished the first chapter.  Between writing and research for the book, and work and real life, I haven’t had time to update this little thingy.

But don’t worry.

I have several things I have to talk about which I will get to this week.  I promise.  Here they are, just to tease you and make you check in:

  1. I had an interesting conversation with an acquaintance that infuriated me.  It’s about love, sex, and marriage.
  2. My heart is a whore and I’m trying very hard to learn how to be different.  I will explain.
  3. The sale of the deceased old lady next door’s things.  The yardsale is this coming weekend.  I’m emotional about it.

I will also try to catch up on all of your blogs.  I haven’t been reading anything.  I’m such a bad blogger.

Talk to you all soon.

Nobody cares if your ass itches.

Sincerely,
Debbie

I’m tired.  I don’t know why.  It’s just one of those weeks.  I’ve had a few really bad days and I’m super bloated.  Like super bloated.  And my poop isn’t right.  I don’t know what’s going on, but it sucks.

I was sitting around last night thinking, really thinking, and an idea for a book slammed into me.  The idea isn’t at all like anything I’ve ever thought of writing.  The genre is wrong, but the story is coming to me and I’m really excited about it.  My toes are tingling.  Now, I just have to get over my fear and start writing.  I already have about 7 pages of notes from just last night.  I even bought a voice recorder in case something comes to me and I can’t write fast enough.  Wish me luck.

I will not discuss what the book is about.  Ever.  Not that I don’t love you all, but I don’t want to jinx it or have anyone steal it.

If I had the energy to explain why I’m so exhausted, I would.  I just don’t feel like writing about.  But, I could sleep for a whole day or more.  It’s my fantasy right now.  Sleep.  I have 5 whole days off next weekend and I can’t freakin wait.  I’m going MIA.  Seriously MIA.

I miss my neighbor.  It hit me yesterday, hard.  It’s been 1 month since she died and I miss talking to her.  I still look over at her porch expecting her to be there.  It’s just…weird.  I’m going to visit her grave tomorrow and have a chat.  I think it will make me feel better.

I’ll put together a new playlist tomorrow, if anyone cares.  Yeah, I will lie to myself and say that everyone will be chewing their hands off with excitement at what music I’ll pick this time.  Yes.  Lie to myself.

That’s all for now.  Thanks for reading.

Last Sunday, we had huge storms come through.  I recorded my latest podcast during the storms.  Apparently, my downstairs neighbors let their cat, Tigger, out in between storms because when I got home from work on Monday they were frantically yelling for him.  I have some very strong opinions about people who let their pets run around the neighborhood—they shouldn’t.  Tigger doesn’t wear a collar.  He’s an alley cat, so he’s always howling to get outside.  I’m used to seeing him around the yard, having given up on trying to talk my neighbor into keeping him inside.

On Wednesday, I asked about the cat and they still hadn’t found him.  The neighbors had gone door to door, visited the local animal shelter, and even went to the police station with no success.  They were scared he was stuck somewhere, locked in someone’s garage or basement.  On Friday night, I was coming home from a ridiculous evening at my father’s when Jim, my guy neighbor, stopped me to tell me that they found Tigger.  He was dead under their back patio.  It looks like he died from natural causes, he was just curled up with no trauma or anything.  Jim had to rip up the planks of wood on the patio to get him out.  I visited the little guy’s grave today and said bye.

Seriously, I’m sick of death.  Not one more this year, at least, or I’m going to freak the fuck out.

Other than the evening at my dad’s and his house full of people who don’t fucking work and are half retarded, ohhhh I’ll have to write a whole other post to explain that shit, I’ve had a beautifully silent weekend.  I did things at my leisure, laundry and grocery shopping, with no one bothering me and calling me at all hours.  I watched movies, surprising myself by enjoying Enchanted and Penelope way more than I thought I would.  I also read all weekend.  It was awesome.

The kittens are driving me crazy.  Hayden wants to party all the time and Nina isn’t happy unless she’s laying on me.  And I’m not allowed to walk around without Nina under my feet.  I’m afraid I’m going to hurt her because I’m tripping over her so much.  Hayden keeps biting my feet and Nina keeps chewing my laptop while I’m typing this.  They’re driving me crazy.  They are sooooo lucky I love them. Roslin and Stella are still awesome and well-behaved.

And finally, fuck you Warner Bros.  Seriously.  What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Thinking.  How dare you move Harry Potter back 8 months.  You greedy fuckers.  Really.  You blame it on the writer’s strike, but the movie finished shooting months ago.  This is seriously rude.  The movie better be the best one yet or I will put a curse on your whole studio.  You assholes.

Yes, that last paragraph demonstrates how little of a life I have and yet I don’t care.  I’m pissed.  I had a whole Harry Potter weekend planned with my nephew and I had to call him and tell him that we have to wait not 3 months, but almost a year.

Oh, and I chopped my hair off.  Think Ashley Judd’s hair in Someone Like You.