What I can't say face to face.

No amount of sorry may do.

I'm not even really certain any sort of sorry is in order. But for the umpthyfirst time I feel like having majorly screwed up. And I know that you know that I really didn't mean to hurt you, but ever complaining about the complete lack of respect for my disposition by others, it is all the worse for me to not show any consideration for your feelings.

If there is any apology I may offer,... ask.

Crush- part 7 billion

It seems to me a truth, universally acknowledged that all handsome men most be gay or long-term commited and very often both. Still can't help liking this guy though.

Birthday Wishlist

Since I prefer to avoid people asking me directly what I would or would not like for a birthday present, I annually publish a wishlist a month in advance. So here it goes:

• tea
• colour contacts
• books
• helping hands at moving out
• dieting tips
• a firm sturdy shoulder to cry on
• a new laptop
  

Hiding under my pillow

The loathable evil-doer struck again. As none can fail to know that I am bound by honor, a challenge and some consideration for my teeth to abstain from any such beverages as might be called soda pops, the rapscallioning malefactor has dealt a hard blow indeed by stuffing my beloved berth's bedlinen with a sample can of the brew of which you see a picture on the left.

Damned be the execrable miscreant.

What writing utensils may reveal...

It may well be true. In your face mister I-like-you-but-I'm-not-quite-ready-for-a-relationship-yet.

You Are a Green Pen

You are not just a little quirky, you're downright weird. And you're proud of being different! You go against the grain just so you won't fit in. You couldn't imagine being like everyone else. You are creative and a big wacky. You've got a big vision, and it's changing every week. You are surprisingly charming and popular. You may not be normal in any way, but that's part of your appeal.

What Color Pen Are You?

Quote #40

I used to think that the brain was the most wonderful organ in my body. Then I realized who was telling me this.

Emo Phillips

The Crash

Just so you know: I depend solely on the internet connection of others as my very own portable computing device decided to walk out on me.

Wedding Night

As I write, mere hours before you read this I help out preparing the stage wedding of a friend's friends. Two people who are dear to each other and to me will be (fake-) wed.

I always thought I hated the fuss. Having recently seen one of my oldest college friends get married to a very handsome tall dark 'stranger' had -I thought- put me off quite a bit. I loved seeing him and her so happy and brave to simply say we'll face the world together from now on, but throughout the ceremony I felt that it would be impossible for me to vow love and fidelity eternally ( a leftover from having scarred my heart once too often). Combined with a great lack of interest for cake dresses, family festivities and fuss about my person, I concluded that I had better not marry.

However, even knowing that nothing of what will take place today is meant in earnest, I simply adore being involved. I have been wondering a full two weeks about what to wear. I will beam with joy and pride when I am complemented on the choice of corsage and bouquet. I think constantly of event-appropriate music. Had I time and an oven to spare I would without a doubt have volunteered to bake a wedding cake. Already I'm jealous thinking how they will look at each other and the children, with pride, love, warmth overflowing their hearts.

Now that I am well beyond the point of sentimentality I might as well mention that either one of my sort-of-single sisters must marry or the one man that may be mine (if there is such a man) will not escape nuptial frenzy. The official paperwork I can and could do without, but I'll have my damned party.

Mayonaise- The Revenge

I have previously notified my beloved readers (I mean you) how very good I am at cooking and other food related activities. For example hereabouts. Hence I was not impressed with the age old fable that menstruating women can't make mayonaise.

Pain though it causes me I am afraid I will have to admit that for me it holds true. With all the ingredients and the work method I have described before, I managed to concuct a soft creamy, delicately yellow cold sauce that taste exactly like nail paint remover. Just my luck.

Resolutions- part VIII

• let the butterflies wander free
• read more
• write more
• find a job I like
• not spend too much money on foot care products
• celebrate-enjoy-nurture and cherish being who I am