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Oh, there are days when I wish this was an annoymous journal so I could
really dish about my life. I mean, I'm pretty open with most of my
emotions and things, but there is stuff I'd like to tell you about that I
just can't. I know, this is journal no-no #1: don't ever say "I can't
tell you about this" in your journal, as it irritates your readers. I
know. I'm sorry. Holly's home! It was so nice this morning to be able to pick up the phone and call her at the family number! Just having her stay put for awhile is a nice thing; my long distance bill might go up. I can talk to Holly about stuff that otherwise I can only talk to David about (in addition to stuff I *can't* talk to David about). It'll be good to be close with Holly again; for some reason I'm not good about emailing her, but we talk just fine. This is one of those days where I feel like I'm not really saying anything, just sorta rambling. I have another date this week, and I'm sorta nervous. At least he's a "play-it-by-ear" sort of fellow; I don't have to worry about not being in the mood for hot tubbing or a movie or whatever. I also have a date with Corn this weekend, which I'm really looking forward to; Corn's been busy with school, and I've been busy, so we haven't seen each other much at all lately. Corn's one of those sweet, sweet men who can comfort you simply by being near. And, well, he's a good friend. By the way, Holly scolded me for stopping my Spain entries. I'll tell you what I told her: the next part is something I want to do very well, and, well, I've gotten myself all intimidated by it. But it's coming. If I ever get pictures up, that'll certainly be a catalyst. Hey, Corn has a PC . . . maybe he'll help me with that Saturday night . . . I can't wait for David to come back, if for no other reason than I'll be able to live in one place again. Jasmine guilted me into staying there a few nights (somehow, I've made my peace with the place and I'm no longer creeped out), and I now feel split between homes. Rgh. I used to be better at this, but then again, I used to have something of a working wardrobe handy at David's. Ahhh... Anyhow, I'm itching to write a story, but I've filled my week so full, I don't know if it's gonna happen. Sigh. I hate how I make excuses like that; some people might say I'll never be a writer at this rate. I refuse to be so . . . judgemental, at the moment. As long as I think I can, someday I will. Things take time, they do. Ok, well, I'll try to be more entertaining later this week. Have a good day! | ||
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