sigh

this is my boyfriend. holy cow. he is one good looking young man.

I'm gonna keep this one a secret, she thought to herself.

as if "to her self" needed to be said.

I haven't talked to anyone too much about Sam because I feel like I am carrying a full glass of water and if I go bouncing around, I will spill it, or drop the glass and get shards in my feet.
something like that.
I like Sam. I like Sam a lot. I enjoy being with him and smelling his cigarettes before he smokes them, I enjoy making food with him, kissing his neck and when he climbs on top of me while I read on his bed. I like playing scrabble with him in the morning-afternoon after eating.
I even like how he always wins, and only by a few points, MIGHT I ADD.
so, I'm nervous about saying this, about telling the universe, because the minute I do, I'm afraid it will set on fire.
I hope not.

I am very, very, so very pleased with Reason to Write. It is coming together and I feel like it could be a great thing whether that means simply communicating with my friends more or actually getting creativity out there, I think it's a really great thing. I feel good about it. Like... it's my baby. It is my baby.
I made all kinds of updates today, and, ironically, have not written my story.
well, more like FINISHED. I've started two.

Work is work is wqork is worieopnf wois wohns sioew fsnljk.

Pandora radio is fabulous.
StumbleUpon is splendid.
My mother giving me an electric kettle is fantastic.

everything hurts.

my head. my heart. my bones and joints. my guts. my voice.
every possible way to hurt, I'm doing it. right now.

little spoon or no spoon

I don't want to overstay my welcome, and today was a day where I felt like I had no welcome at all. No, maybe not none, but I couldn't feel good.
You being in a bad mood gives me a bad day. and don't say I've only known you a week.
I've known you a week, but that week is right now.