You know what your problem is?

I'm too good looking.

¡Finalmente!

Words.

:-)

I have to admit, I felt a little flutter. A little lift, after a crappy, lonely day. He didn't mention anything specific, not even anything I wanted him to mention. I know he's still hurting, and he's got a lot going on. The girl from Ipanema played havoc on his mind and he doesn't recover from anything quickly. I learned that in a short time. That, plus he respects el instituto de la unión far too much to acknowledge reading between the lines, especially my lines.

I have to decide if I want to continue to send hidden messages, and have a partial friendship or if I want to kick things up a notch, you know, all Emeril-style. BAM! Where does my heart lie? Can I partition myself the way I think I can? Is it right? Do I deserve better than this? Does the other? Does the dh? Questions. All I have is questions. But at least I received words.

So it's been a few days...

And nothing yet.

It's not easy being green.

Or being home. I was hoping that a miracle cure for the funk that I'm in would appear when the plane landed in Des Moines. Not hardly. In fact I find that I'm just as confused as ever, and still longing to become an alcoholic. In fact, I told Misty and Bob, and Earache at dinner that I'd been planning to "live my giver a rest" now that I was home. Four margaritas later, I was feeling pretty good and to top it all off, I've still got my liver. Or my giver, what the fuck.

When life throws you lemons....

...I say throw them back and yell "What the fuck?" Because it's just not nice to throw things, bitch.