I am up. At 6 o'clock in the fucking morning. I've already cleaned my bathroom. Eerie ( Read more... )

Nicotine patches are the most wonderful invention ever. It's like a wet blanket, soothing my cranky addicted little heart ( Read more... )

Sundays suck. Especially Labor Day weekend Sunday. There's still nothing happening, but there's not that push to get things done that there is when you have to go be productive on Monday. *AND* this is one more day away from my Mexican ( Read more... )

So, ahem. My Mexican. How do I speak of his virtues? I don't know where to begin! He's clever, he's smart, he reads music... he doesn't smoke or drink gin (like I do ( Read more... )

...This is all Foudini's fault. I was fine *NOT* having an LJ accout, but lo and behold, here I am typing up my first entry. I warn you all, this may be a repeat of my Melo stint, involving one entry and an irrate Ms Mojo. I've more important things to do than update everyone on my curent standing with my Mexican.