Forever ago.

I was both lost and found this weekend. Drunk and sober. More drunk. I was in West Islip, Bay Shore, Lindenhurst, on the Upper East Side, in Greenwich Village, in Williamsburg, back on the Upper East Side, in Northport and home. I drank sangria, heineken, corona, patron, and a cosmo? Smoked one hookah. Hung around with boys. Danced. Got soaked in the rain. Crashed a party. Dropped my phone...twice. Spent over $50 in cabs. Polished my toenails. Missed someone terribly. As I write this it comes back to me. I made plans to go to Barcelona in January. Steven is buying me the Rosetta Stone software. Steven. Goddamn I'm lucky that he took excellent care of me all day...Until he allowed me in that cab to Williamsburg. Ugh. But I'm pretty determined. I go where the wind blows me. Even if that wind is accompanied by torrential rains. I spent the better part of yesterday going over my decisions. It was a lonely day of contemplation. No regrets though. Never. But no excuses either. Ok, some excuses. You get 3 excuses like wishes. My first is alcohol, and it's ability to cloud my judgement. The second is love. Love in every single sense of the word you could ever imagine. The good and the bad of it. Love. The love that makes everything feel wonderful and everything feel painful, all at the same time. My third excuse is that I'm onehellofan emotional sonofabitch.

xo

Birthday!!!!

Whoop!

Today, my darling little muffin head, Dylan turns 2 years old! Woah. Time is flying.

I already gave him a few goodies last night (I just couldn't wait!), but I plan on taking him to PetCo at lunchtime so that we can pick out some toys and treats to celebrate the big day.

I owe so much to this pup. It's impossible to put into words. He was my rock through a tough break-up, and my companion when I made the big move to live alone for the first time in my life. He gives me unconditional love, more kisses than I could ever count, and he's, hands down, the best cuddler EVER.

I feel so so so lucky and appreciative that he's in my life. He makes me laugh when life hands out lemons. He kisses my eyes when I cry. He's up for a long walk when I need to think. He's always down for a road trip to the city when I feel like getting away. He makes my work day that much easier by walking across my desk, plopping right down in front of my monitor and demanding kisses.

Everyone should have a dog.

Happy 2nd Birthday Dylan!
xoxo

So angry.
So so so angry.

So so so angry.

2 reasons.

both stink pigs.

I hate that my dreams always turn into a reality.
Gives me a tummy ache.

$250.00

And obnoxious requests from an ex.

Fuck me.

All male writers, incidentally, no matter how broke or otherwise objectionable, have pretty wives. Somebody should look into this.

Kurt Vonnegut

In a pickle.

Ugh.

I don't know what to do.

I really really really want to go to Paris. Well, actually, I don't REALLY want to go to Paris. I mean, not nearly as much as I would rather go to, say, Barcelona.

This is where my dilemma lies.

I'm trying to book a hotel for Paris. I have a flight booked, but not a hotel. It's crunch time, seeing as the trip is in a couple weeks. Supposedly.

Well, hotels are all booked up. So I'm going to have to spend a zillion and one dollars to get any type of accommodation.

On top of this, I would have to lend Jackie money for the trip, because she is so so so so so sweet to agree to come with me, but she also lives alone in Manhattan and has a ridiculous rent payment to make (and it was all a bit of short notice, and therefore, she had a lack of time to save).

Bleh.

So.

Although I was stoked to go away for my birthday, I think I'm going to have to postpone my trip...To anywhere.

I feel somewhat defeated, but now I can go somewhere I really want to go, like Barcelona or Rome. Paris is up there, but it's the city of love, and well, you can figure it out.

Someone tell me I'm making the right decision.

Thanks.