Baby fever…..for real?!?!?

I got to meet Jane this weekend!

She’s precious.

Perfect and small and soft.

She snuggled right up and melted my heart.

She also seems to have turned up the volume on the ticking of my biological clock. I mean, it’s there, ticking away all the time, but now, it’s deafening. I suppose this is a given when one is 35 and (oh so) single. But damn!

Jane’s mom tells of how this is the hardest job she’s ever had. She talks of no sleep. She talks of absolute fear of this 9 lb person. But she does all this with a almost undetectable smile that makes me pretty sure it’s all worth it. I ask about nursing and labor pains and all that stuff, and no matter what she says, I think it sounds lovely.

My mind has been going through it’s contact list in hopes there is some sort of forgotten male who would be perfect to stop this clicking clock. All it finds is Mr. Complicated, Mr. Wrong, Mr. Bad Gene Pool, Mr. Gay. Mr. Ewwww and Mr. Not In A Million Years.

Then my mind takes me to the dark side. Do I want to have a baby so I don’t feel left out? Do I want to have a baby or do I want to have what I’d like to think comes with a baby, a husband (or husband type person) a cute little house with a backyard and silly disagreements about nothing? Do I want a baby just so I am not alone?

Currently all I am sure of is this; the time I spent this past weekend holding that precious little girl was the happiest time I’ve spent in a very long time.

To Marie and Jeremy…and Jane

In approximately 33 days, the ‘good guys’ are going to be one girl stronger.

Little Jane Elizabeth will finally grace us with her presence and I, for one, can’t wait! Good things come to those who wait and goodness knows that you guys have waited and struggled and laughed and cried and had hypochondria issues galore ( I kid Marie!!) But know you’re in the home stretch and there are so many great things just around the corner.

Jane is so lucky to have parents like you. Parents that compliment each other in so many ways. Individually you are super cool, collectively you are a force to be reckoned with. You both care for each other and your friends and family in ways that are not sicky sweet, but caring the way people want to be cared about. You have amazing senses of humors and all kinds of quirks that make being around you a treat.

Hearing Marie worry about early life with Jane and Jeremy worry about things like taking her fishing, the girl is going to be taken care of. She’s going to have great taste in music, varied taste in movies and be a reader. I just know it. I wonder if she’ll be a planner or a dreamer, or maybe the perfect combination of both?  All things are possible in Jane’s world right now and she has the type of parents who will do all they can to continue to make her feel that all things are possible, without giving her false hope.

Little Miss Jane, we’ve been waiting for you. You’re not here quite yet, but we’ve gotten some things in order for you. We have a great President in office, that’s a good thing. We’re working on the global warming thing, sorry about that. Hopefully all the wars will be over by the time you are aware of such horrible things. Bottom line, you are already loved and your parents have so much love ready to give you that I can’t even express. So if they get stressed when you cry all night or ticked when you won’t eat….don’t worry, they will always love you. And if you could be a napper…that would be good to. They would appreciate that. The Truth

This is not some expose on a online dating site. This is, rather, a more truthful response to the extensive profile I filled out on the aforementioned dating site earlier today.

Who I am and who I am looking for:

I am borderline neurotic. I have a vivid imagination and a tendency to over-share. I can tend to be clingy, but need my space. I feel alone in crowds. I love my dog too much. Sometimes I forget to brush my teeth. I never put away my clean laundry. I like the idea of eating healthy, but eat crap out of convenience. I have pretty blue eyes, and I know it. There is no way for me to have cleavage. I fall down a lot. I laugh way too loud. Sometimes I hold in my sneezes in some weak attempt at femininity.  I enjoy museums and such, but spend large amounts of time watching random reality shows.  I sometimes think people are looking at me in admiration, but in my heart know it’s not true. I relate very well to gay men. Gay men love me. Straight men are much less interested. I sometimes have a horrible time holding up my end of a conversation. I try to be a people pleaser to the point that I either come across as super boring or eventually freak out and spill all the dissenting opinions I’ve been holding in. I was once a registered Republican, but currently am terrified by Republicans in general. I believe in God and think Jesus was probably a cool dude, but, in general, Christians scare the hell out of me. I don’t care what anyone does as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else. Stealing is bad. I drive too fast. I sleep too much. Sometimes I take 3 showers a day. Sometimes I don’t shower for 3 days. I have 2 cats, and am ashamed of that sometimes.  I’ve kissed a girl. I can’t understand why people like me but am crushed if they don’t. I have a philanthropic heart, but a lazy ass. I love gossip. I may want to have children, but probably for all the wrong reasons.  I’m loyal to a fault. I’m nosy. I’m mostly a mess, the wants to be loved.

I am looking for a man. I like dark hair and beards. I want someone who listens to the minutia of my day and can tell which of my two friends named Erin I am talking about without clarification. I like boys who drive trucks. I like smart boys, who aren’t too smart to act stupid.  I want a boy who is more attractive then me, but doesn’t know it. I want a boy who will hold my hand. I want a boy with a healthy sexual appetite. I want a boy who understands the ridiculous nature of porn, but isn’t too “high brow” to enjoy it. I want a boy who cooks, or at least will eat my cooking. I want a boy who loves Nashville, but wants to travel. I want a boy who can hold his liquor….but doesn’t hold on to it too tight or all the time.I want a boy who will get pleasure out of seeing how excited I get at a Reckless Kelly show. I want a boy who thinks it’s great when I want to hang with “my girls” or even better, when I want to hang with “my boys.” I want a boy who knows more about me then anyone else, but still wants to know more.

I’m pretty sure that even if I had forked up the $50 to get an actual subscription to this dating site, had I filled out the form honestly, it would have been $50 down the drain. I’m all for online dating for others, but it just ain’t my thing. I lack the self confidence to open myself up like that and would much rather spend that $50 on shoes.

So there.

Single People Deserve to Die

A coworker of mine found out that their spouse (a salesperson) was scheduled to take a trip out of the country to an area that had been on the news lately because of outbursts of violence. Among the many reasons they came up with as to why this was a horrible idea (which I agree it was) was “It’s not like (they’re) a single person, they have a spouse.”

All of a sudden it became so clear. Since I have not married, my life is expendable. Phew, now I don’t feel nearly as bad for spending the weekend watching “Deadliest Catch” and eating dip. I probably will stop wearing my seat belt, start running with scissors and perhaps I should take up smoking or a nice heroin habit. Seeing as I am a 34 year old single person, it’s not like it would matter as much. I mean really, I’ve only got one ovary and fallopian tube left and at my ever advancing age, the likelihood of me procreating gets smaller every day.

Sure, I have pets, but they are just animals. I have family and such, but no one has chosen to be legally tied to me, therefore, I’m expendable.

I mean really people, how easy is it to be single?!?! I have one salary with which I pay for all my expenses. Luckily I have the opportunity to buy engagement, wedding, baby shower and other gifts for those people who have found someone who wants to have legal ties to them. It makes me understand that not only is my life not worth as much, but that all milestones in my life aren’t worth as much because Target doesn’t have a registry for “Single Girl’s New Place” or “Heather Needs a New Handbag” or “Dog and Cat Toys are Free.”  I don’t mean to imply that I begrudge my married and baby-making friends, but damn y’all, with a life as non-momentous as mine apparently has been, it hurts the ego.

I have the strength of one person to carry groceries up the stairs.  If a bug needs killing, it’s all me. If someone invites me to do something, pretty much no other person on the planet gives a shit if i do it or not. I mean, hell, I’m SUPER expendable since I don’t even have siblings. I’m like the SUPER SINGLE PERSON. I was born single, grew up single, hit mid-life (ish) single and at this point it’s looking like old age is going to be single for me too. It’s almost selfish of me to have a job. A job that could go to a married person with a family. But that’s how we single folks roll……

The single person really hardly even deserves a vacation, unless to go to a wedding, baby shower, funeral or other occassion. Once we hit our 30’s it gets hard to find a group of single folk (or open minded marrieds) who are apt to want to take the same vacation. Luckily for me, being an only child and all, I can take vacations with my parents….that isn’t pitiful at all!

I hate to sound like a whiner. I suppose I’m lucky that I haven’t been put in a home for spinsters by now. I’m fortunate that I’m allowed to walk the same streets and pay the same taxes as those who have legal ties to others. Maybe I’ll take the route of this lady at least I’d be married.

Maybe it’s just a phase….

In addition to the family drama of this past weekend, I got to spend some time with my cousin’s three little boys, Jackson (6) Joshua (almost 3) and Lucas (almost 2) and it’s got me thinking about kids again. While it was exhausting just watching my cousin’s wife take care of their every need at all times, it was heartbreaking to watch them cuddle up to her and look at her like she was the most wonderful person on the planet. No matter how much I love my dog, it’s just not the same.

From watching Jack play little league to helping Josh learn to play the wii to watching Luke run around in perfect circles on his tippy toes, it all was so wonderful. I can’t imagine anything more fulfilling then having little lives like that be around you, and molded by you. But I’m almost positive I don’t want to do it alone.

So, it gets back to the whole marriage thing. Well, perhaps not marriage, but at least a committed relationship, committed to the point that I would want to have children with this man. I guess, pretty much marriage.  Will I wake up at 50 years old in a cold sweat feeling like my life has been a total waste if I don’t do the husband and kids thing? At this point, I’m pretty sure I will, and this scares the hell out of me. What is the point of a life if you leave no physical legacy?

I’m happy with my life right now. Things are going well. I’m in a better place in the universe then I have been for a long. long time. But will this contentment make me complacent as to moving forward with my life? Will I get comfortable and never marry or have children? Or is it better to be comfortable and let things happen as they are meant to then it would be to actively pursue marriage and children, which may result in them being scared off?

I don’t know, but it’s pretty much consuming my mind these days. That, and the face below, who could SO be my kid and I totally should have snatched when I had the chance 🙂  My cousin has two more kids, would he really miss one?


Let’s preface this with some general statements concerning me and my thoughts on marriage. I respect the institution of marriage. I still hold out some hope that one day I will be married. Marriage isn’t easy under the best circumstances, but can be completely worth the effort. In general, I believe that most of my friends’ marriages are enviable.

I have a friend. He is a musician. He is one of the nicest people I have ever met, but has a “naughty” streak that makes him all the more likable. He’s got a great talent, a raspy voice, an amazing sense of humor and a wife. His wife is gorgeous, but not in a fake, Hollywood way. She is gorgeous in a way that I want to be gorgeous. She is fun to be around, easy to talk to and they love each other in the sweet simple way that is a treat to see.

My friend has not only musical talent, but a talent for making me feel special. When we talk it’s like I’m the only person in the room. He asks me questions about my life, my opinions on things, etc…and listens. Listens, and months or years later will bring these things up, so he not only listens, he retains what I’ve said to him. He has a devilish smile and these dimples that tear me up. He winks at me from the stage. He swears he can hear my screams over others in the crowd and he appreciates how much I pay attention to the shows.  He buys me drinks. He puts me on the list from time to time. He makes sure I’m aware of any show within a 6 hour drive of Nashville and calls me when the band is coming through town on the way to somewhere else. Again, he has a wife.

We got to chat this weekend after a show. Apparently some medication I am on makes me about as hormonal as a teenage boy. So, as we chatted, we got closer and closer to each other. Someone called to him that they were going to another bar, and he nodded that he was going to stick around where we were for awhile. Each comment either one of us made seemed to necessitate a hug or other touching. In any other situation, things would have been moving in the exact direction I wanted them to. But he’s married. At some point, the angel on my shoulder took over (the devil was probably getting a cocktail or something) and I decided to ask how the wife was. Had our conversation been taking place in a cartoon, you would have heard brakes squealing and smoke would have emanated from our bodies. We talked about his wife for a bit and he mentioned how much she and I have in common, etc…but the turn had been taken. The devil was back on my shoulder and was PISSED, but I felt as though a good decision had been made.

Later in the evening, after being mis-directed to another bar, etc…we (Snikki, the boy and I) ended up at a funky bar just chatting and having cocktails. I never am at a loss for words with him, but I’m pretty sure I could sit in silence with him just as easily. Being around him makes me feel comfortable and happy and (sometimes) happy in my panties. In the end however, we are friends and he is married. So I will be content knowing how fortunate I am to know this awesome fella and be left with my imagination, memories of the best hugs ever and the little lick in the ear that closed off the evening…

Five years later…..

March 2003 was a pivotal month in my life. Well, really just a couple of days in March 2003.  I’m thinking it was  Tuesday March 18 when the changes started.  I had been working with a local band for over a year. I LOVED it. Had so much fun I couldn’t believe it, that kind of thing.  For a few weeks, things had seemed strained when we were all together. I was getting odd messages from various band members about other band members. I was NOT getting return calls, follow through, etc. That morning I got a call from the drummer. The rational one (which is odd for a drummer!) and he said “Well, you probably figured this out already, but we’re done.”  It was kind of like an odd break-up. He started to go into details and such and I stopped him. I didn’t want or need to know. I loved those 5 guys and didn’t want any information to cloud that love. I knew enough.

Literally 30 minutes later, my father called.  My friend Matt, whom I have never NOT known, had had some medical issues over the weekend and they got the tests back that day. He had liver cancer. Well, more precisely, he had pancreatic cancer that had spread to his liver.  All of a sudden I wanted to know all the band drama, just so I could occupy my mind with anything but this. 

Matt was 29. Married to an amazing woman. Father to two crazy boys. From what I understood at that point, he also now had a death sentence. I instantly went into my boss and said I needed to take a few days off to go to Michigan. All I said was, “Matt has cancer. I need to go.” She didn’t ask any questions.

I ended up leaving town early Thursday, March 20. In between Tuesday and when I left, the US had gotten ourselves in a war. Well, another war. This time with Iraq. I remember watching them drop the first bombs on Baghdad and just being numb. I didn’t really know why we were dropping bombs. Yeah, Sadaam Hussein was a terrible person who was doing terrible things to his people. He also happened to have a fleeting resemblance to the people who attacked the US 19 months earlier. But, to this day, I don’t REALLY know why we got into this.

I thought of all the guys I knew in the Marines from back in my “barracks bunny” days. How many of them were over there? Did THEY know why the bombs were dropping?

As I drove toward Michigan I kept crying and crying and crying. Not for the Iraqis, but for Matt. And his wife. And his boys. And his parents, who were my second parents. And all the people who knew him. He was just that kind of guy.

Meridian in Indianapolis is one of my favorite parts of the drive to Michigan. All the big, beautiful old homes built with insurance money. Not ostentatious, simply lovely. This particular drive down Meridian wasn’t my favorite. I decided to listen to NPR. At this point it was wall to wall cover of Iraq. I was literally listening to the war unfold in my red  99 Saturn and it was the best thing I could have listened to.

I was awestruck by the fact that  I was living in a time of war. I was living in a time when things I loved sometimes went away. I was living in a time where the one person that I had known my whole life, was possibly dying. But somehow, with all of that realization, the war soothed my mind. Having something as foreign to my thinking as listening to real bombs dropping on real people made so much more sense to me then cancer. Any cancer. Particularly Matt’s cancer.

My friendship with Matt is an amazing thing. Our parents were/are best friends and we were pretty much expected to follow their lead. And we did. I could go for months, years even without seeing him and within about 2 seconds of being together, it was like no time had passed. I understood how special he was in my life, which made his illness so much harder.

When I finally made it to Niles, I really can’t remember what I did first.  Probably drove out to Barron Lake to Matt’s parent’s house. My dad had been staying there for a few days. That house has only happy memories associated with it. Everytime I was there was for a celebration, planned or not. This time it was different. When I saw Matt’s parents we hugged like we always do, but it was so much more meaningful this time. We didn’t talk about what had brought me there.

The next day we went over to Matt’s house. At this point I had had some discussions with his Mom and Dad about things. His mom gave me medical details and such. His dad just talked about how wrong it was that this was happening. This wasn’t normal. His dad was always the detail guy, his mom the emotional one. It was a whole new world we were living in.

When I walked into Matt’s house, he was sitting on the couch. He didn’t look terrible, but he didn’t look good either. We had been so excited when he went from a gangly boy to a filled out man in college. There I was looking at a gangly man. We just hugged each other for a really long time. I told him I was glad I was there. He said he was pissed I was there and laughed. His laughter took a huge weight off my chest. My friend Erin had driven in from Chicago to come and talk to Matt and to be there for me. She had a lot of experience with different cancer treatments, etc. through her work. I have known her since first grade. I had always imagined Matt and Erin meeting. I hated that this is what made that happen.

We had a normal dinner. Played trivial pursuit. Talked about what the next steps were in the treatment. Just a normal night, sort of. Erin drove home that night and I made plans to come back over, just me, the next day.

Matt had been dating Angie for 2 weeks when I met her. She came up to me at his parent’s 25th Anniversary Party and said “so, you’re the first girl he ever saw naked huh?” I loved her instantly. She grilled me that whole night about him. She wanted to know it all. At one point at the bar she came in close and whispered in my ear “I’m gonna marry that boy, just so you know.” She did marry him almost 2 years later and it was one of the most perfect unions I had ever been a witness to.

Sitting in the rec room of their split level in South Bend, I kept thinking of the night we met, and their wedding, and how we both had joked that we always wanted a sister and now felt like we had one. I thought of this as she told me how she had to physically take Matt’s records out of the oncologist’s hands and see the post it note that said “Too many and too big” on the report about the possibility of removing the tumors on his liver. I held her hand while she talked about trying to figure out how she was going to raise 2 boys by herself. She was just saying all of the things that she couldn’t say to Matt, or his parents, or her parents or anyone. I was so glad I was there for that. We both sat there and just bawled for awhile. Matt came down in the middle of this and quickly ran back up the stairs which made us both laugh while we cried.

I left late that evening after dinner and some more board games. As I hugged Matt he whispered, “Sorry I fucked up New Orleans.” I choked as I was once again laughing while crying. At our 21st birthday celebration in Las Vegas, we had decided that for our 30th, it would be The Big Easy. That just wasn’t going to happen now.

They jumped on his treatment like crazy people. Helps that Angie was a nurse, a tenacious nurse that wouldn’t take no for an answer. A few months later the tumors in his liver were shrinking due to a procedure that cut off blood flow to them. It turned out his pancreatic cancer was never going to be a real issue and that he had probably had it for awhile.

That next summer, Angie planned a surprise birthday party for him. It was a few months before his birthday, which helped with the surprise. My mom flew in from California. Matt’s good friend flew in from Texas. I drove up from Nashville. He never had a clue. He didn’t even know what hit him when he drove up to his in-laws place. We didn’t know what hit us either. He had gained back a lot of his weight and looked great. I couldn’t stop hugging him. I smiled so hard it hurt.  He wasn’t out of the woods yet, but some sunlight was shining through.

I got a call from him this past weekend. His doctor gave him the all clear. No longer would he be going to the oncologist every few months, just once a year. He was in complete remission.

The band never got back together. We’re still at war in Iraq (what exactly do we “win” with that one?). But Matt is alive and healthy. So, as far as my little world is concerned, these have been 5 productive years.

Funny comes when you least expect it

So, I was trolling myspace (what else should a gal with a wicked cough and no desire to leave the house be doing?) and came across this comment on a friend’s page:

married life is just how i expected it to be………….more t.v. watching and less sex.
thank god for cable and expensive sheets or i’d be getting a divorce.

I don’t know the person who left the comment, but I think I love them. They have expressed my deepest fears about marriage, my love for good sheets and cable and a snarky attitude in two brief lines.  Genius I say, genius.

I’ve spent this weekend at home, doing nothing but coughing and sleeping. My furry friends are tired of being around me and I can’t say that I blame them.  Currently the new Kimora Lee Simmons show is on my TV for at least the 4th time (thank god for a new episode tonight!) and the MTV gods took pity on me and had a “The Hills” marathon yesterday. Wow, re-reading that makes it sound even more pitiful then it really is–WHATEV!

My illness coincided with some pre-paycheck poverty, so there’s my silver lining.  All this time with non-humans has given me time to think about the humans that are in my life.  I came across this quote the other day and it rings so true in so many ways;

There are two ways of spreading the light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
— Edith Wharton

I tend to think I am the mirror.  Being the candle would seem to be outside of my area of expertise.  I’m just not the burning bright for all the world to see type.  However, I like to surround myself with candles.  Creative people who live lives I will never understand, but enjoy watching.  Young, vibrant people who are so open to new experiences that it makes me smile to just think about them. Quiet, thoughtful types who can be the craziest people I know. Heck, I even know a cool ass accountant…I mean really, how can I compete with that?!?!?

So I will be happy with my status as a mirror. I wish that some of the people in my life could see themselves through my mirror. These amazing folks who live their lives as they want, have fears and hopes and dreams, and from time to time need a little encouragement to let their “freak flags” fly (and some need encouragement to put their’s away 🙂 ) But I know this, we are all creative people on this planet.  Living life takes creativity.  Getting through life basically happy takes TONS of creativity. So to anyone out there who thinks they are not creative….and YES, I’m talking to you….get over it.  You are incredibly creative.  You have a voice that we all want to hear.  You have a point of view that will make us all better people to know about. You have reverse body dysmporphic  disorder—and that rocks 🙂

Ok–kind rambly. I blame the phlegm.

Calling All Boys!

I have recently discovered a secret power I have and I’m offering it up for all you men/boys/males out there. If you are looking for a new girlfriend or to make a commitment to a lady (or heck, a guy if that’s your thing) in your life…..all you have to do is get me to like you. That’s right, be creative, be a musician, have dark hair, be halfway nice to me and before you know it, love will be yours. Don’t worry, it doesn’t have to be with me….most likely it won’t be with me. I’m like a lucky charm for males around me.

Here are some examples of my power.

High School: dated cute football player. He broke up with me to date a much younger girl and then, apparently while dating her, realized he was gay. He didn’t act on this until much later, but he told me that he made me comfortable enough with himself that he went after the underage hottie and eventually realized that he was more of an “outdoor plumbing” kind of guy. Yippppeee.

College: (hmmm…..hard to pick just one) Let’s just say that every guy I dated is now married, many with children. I have two cats and a dog. When I run into these fine fellas they all tell me how great a person I was and how much confidence I instilled in them and how I taught them how to love better. Whatever. Fuck all of you…..ooops, let me take off my angry eyes.

Post College: Perhaps it’s a case of “once (20 times) bitten, twice shy (to the point of vascilating between being celibate and a slut monkey)” but post college I’ve had a rough run. I’ve surrounded myself, at various times, with some of the most fascinating and wonderful men on the planet. Most of them see/saw me as a really good friend. I was an informant for the female gender (sorry!). In some cases I was a good booty call. Overall, I was/am someone who these guys would come to for advice with girls. I would tell them what I would like and then watched them go do it to/for/with some other girl.

Feel free to leave me a comment if you are a guy who needs some love advice. If you want to get a new girlfriend. wife, etc….in no time flat, be somewhat attractive, silly, smart or any combination of that and I will put a spell on you that will make you irresistible to all woman and completely unaware of seeing me as anything but a friend. If you are a girl, who has a guy friend you’d like to convert….I’m pretty sure my power works that way also.

I just want to make everyone around me happy……..I’m a giver 😀

My subconscious sucks!

*****warning! I am a little bit tipsy and as a result VERY sensitive. come on in to my pity party….all are welcome!*****

So, I’ve been having all these weird thoughts about pregnancy, right. Well, turns out, one of my best friends, a girl I’ve known since first grade and love to death ,is pregnant. That’s right, I’m going to be an Auntie again. While, in general, I am thrilled, it also is a painful reminder. This girl has done many things that I have yet to do. She’s been married ….TWICE (she’s on #2 and I guarantee he’s a keeper) been divorced (ok…not really wanting to do this one) and is now on her second home she’s owned. Oh yeah, and now she’s pregnant. I know I am a horrible person for not being able to be anything but thrilled at this news…..but DAYUM! What universal law have I broken that finds me in a one bedroom apartment with three neutered animals and a drawer full of cute panties that are seen not nearly enough?!?!?!

To add to my subconscious’ fun with me, the team I played trivia with tonight was named “I love boobies.” Sure–who doesn’t . I should be glad that I wasn’t left alone to fend for myself at trivia and had some folks to play with….but BOOBIES???? This is an area that I am painfuly lacking in. In the last few months I have thought about surgical “enhancements” more then I ever thought I would. But, alas, I would not be happy with that. I’d feel so artificial and since I can hardly deal with the real me most of the time, there’s no way I could live up to some bodacious ta-tas! This has become a bit more of an issue in my head because I feel as though I would be competing with big boobie girls to enter the world of The Player to be Named Later Yes, I know my obsession with him is silly….but still. He’s apparently dated strippers (dubious choice at best) and has a ton of fine ass, big boobied girls who think he is the cat’s pajamas. What would he want with an average girl, with little boobs who laughs really loud, snorts from time to time, has a problem not speaking her mind, likes to paint and analyze song lyrics and loves her dog, her cats, her handbags and shoe shopping more then she should? Seriously….

So here I sit. Jealous of one of my best friends. Intimidated by women who are after a man I don’t even know. Feeling sorry for myself that the best kisses I get involve dog breath. Yet, somehow, still stupidly optimistic and refusing to give up.


Ok, that is all. Nothing more to see here. Move along.