the once in a year update, chapter 43

Another year. Another number. It's amazing how much I hate birthday's but then secretly wish they were the most fabulous day of your year. Just once I'd like to say that my birthday was the most fabulous day of my entire year.
Never happens. After 43 years of them you's think I'd have learned.
And I think the expectations always wipe away any small attempt at being special.
Why do I think that someone who wishes their birthday would go away would think that someone else might like that their birthday was made into an extra special day? Why do I go thru life wishing people close to me can read my mind and know what I want? But then asking for what you want labels you as a spoiled brat.
Then maybe I drank too much wine, the moon may be in a flux and I'm just full of shit.

how long has it been this time?

I've started to wonder how long it's going to take before my outward online persona finds this blog. I've always felt safe here, and able to write things that might be embarrassing if people I run into at the grocery store know about me. This blog site merged with Google somehow and I am sure it would be easy to trace this to me without too much sleuthery. I thought about deleting this whole blog. I don't really write here much anymore. Maybe because I don't think the internet is as anonymous as it used to be. Or naively thought it was. When I started writing I couldn't even imagine anyone I know finding this little blog and reading anything I wrote here. Nowadays you hear about people getting fired from their jobs because they wrote something negative in their journal or posted some photo of them doing a line off the back of a Taiwanese hooker. Not that a picture like that of me would get me fired. I don't think they would care unless I was coming to work cracked out or stealing from them. After I typed that last vouple of sentences I sat here for quite a bit and couldn't for the life of me come up with anything else to say. Still can't.

Sugar Baby

For once in a very, very long time I am totally alone for the evening. All by myself for a few blissful hours with nothing but a bottle of wine and my computer. No one wondering what I am doing or trying to lure me away from my lifeline to the world. So many times I find myself very introspective, laying in bed wishing I had a computer in front of me to write it all down. It's too much work to get up and I know by the time I walk into the office I will have forgotten what I wanted to get down. (Plight of the stoner) In some ways I miss living alone. I miss the quietness. I miss the no one wanting anything from me or for me to do anything but whatever the fuck I want. But then I remember the loneliness. How you can sometimes feel like you are the only one here. After I moved to “Whisper Sands” I lost my privacy. If you are going to be in any relationship and it work you cannot hide things from each other. So, you find yourself not blogging because you are never alone and staying up past his bedtime to blog seems shameful and wrong somehow like you are having an affair or looking at dirty porn.

So, bad day at work for a variety of reasons but now I don't really want to talk about or or relive it and the weed and wine are starting to kick in and mellow me. I have 2 new favorite songs from the new SugarLand Lp, “It Happens” and “All I Want To Do” and I have them looping. What a dork I am.

It's amazing how one puff can put it all into perspective. That long “To Do” list sure doesn't seem as important now as relaxing does.

bored

I am laying in bed while my cat, macaroni is trying to bite my fingers as I text this in. My çomputer is still not plugged back in since my trip to houston on monday and I am jonesing to surf. I thought this might be the laziest way to do it without getting out of bed. Definately not the easiest. But if this works, then it's pretty cool. I am watching who's wedding is this anyway and I am wondering what it would be like to have and spend this huge amount of money!