Its funny that you said that because I agree with you with the conviction of seven arabian princesses.

Soon I will have fun stories from the bakery world. I get to play with frosting all day and make pretty cakes and make people smile because they are eating sugar and chocolate and they love it. It is the perfect job. Kinda like getting some front to front action with someone who knows what they're doing.

I've recieved two "remember me" emails in the past week from men....maybe its been longer than a week. I put off answering these because my initial reaction to these little notes is "This guy is a douche" But then I take a minute to realize that I'm a critical bitch who will always be alone if I don't give people a chance. Then I write a sarcastic, funny note back, with a little bit of sweetness so I don't sound like an angry old woman with 14 cats who yells at children who walk on my lawn. And that's when I get myself into a little trouble...and by little I mean that I have no self control. If men and sex were like herion, my arms would be black and blue and I wouldn't be able to feel the tips of my fingers anymore. Their Hershey Kiss nipples, hairy backs, and horrible lines pull me in like a drunken jock at a rufie party.

So how do I defend my goodies? Hide in my apartment...good call. And it actually works pretty well. Except for the nights. Most nights I sleep straight through, I enjoy my bed all to myself. Its a happy corner of this apartment. But some nights I completely freak myself out. I can convince myself that a serial killer has just broke the lock on my door, walked in, read the mail on my table, checked my empty fridge for food, smoked one of my camels, took a pee, downed a shot of whiskey, and is just about to come into my room. When I can clear this thought from my head I literally run to my bathroom, make my pee come out as fast as I possibly can, and then run back as fast as I can. When I finish running like a small child, I always realize that I'm a spaz who needs to get over living alone...................
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and I'm over it.

Played Guitat Hero tonight. It was awesome, but Metallica you can go fuck yourself. I hate you for writing that song and inspiring the makers of Guitar Hero to create the digital version on a plastic, rainbow buttoned guitar even harder than it probably is to play on a actual guitar. Being a virtual musician is harder than most people know. Slash may be a great gutiar legend, but he could never rock Cliffs of Dover on Meduim the way I do.


I tend to think in long sentences with no real point. I like that about living alone.