Update

Duuuuuuuuude.

It's been a while.

I've been away doing big-time things. Like getting a new job, extricating myself from a complicated and unbalanced relationship, and contemplating radical excisement of my hair, ala Nia Long.

My new job is fairly awesome. I've got tons more responsibility than I used to have, and I learn something new everyday. I've really been blessed. I'm given the opportunity to use my brain everyday. I don't even have time to update my blog, or cruise the gossip sites anymore!! I'm actually working. It's cool.

As far as the relationship goes, it wasn't healthy from the get-go, so it was more than about time for it to be over. As usual, I feel like I put my all into it, while he was content to half-ass his way through most of it. Of course, I've shed some tears over him, and inevitably, the new scab that has formed over my thoroughly-broken heart will prevent the next person from gaining access to it as easily as I would like. It's a mess, and a cycle, and I hate it, but it's me. Now, I'm in a place where I don't care, and I'm strong against love and heartbreak, and no one can penetrate that zone at this very moment. I really need this time to be free. I always end up in a relationship where I fare worse than he does.

Which leads me to my hair. It's part of the whole freedom thing of which I spoke in the last paragraph.

Right now, my hair is a few inches past my shoulders. In roughly 11 days, I will chop most of it off. It's extremely frightening, and wholly exhilarating at the same time. If I can pull it off, and not regret it, I will be very happy.

Body Count

I was sitting here going over my body count. What's a body count, you ask? Well, I'm not an ax murderer or anything, so it has nothing to do with killing folks. It refers to that other kind of slaying that can result in bloodshed, but really shouldn't.

I lost my virginity in college to the love of my life. Before that, I had dabbled in the sexual arts, but never to the point of devirginization. Some of that had to the with the fact that my boyfriend in high school was packing a mean one, and I wanted to have kids and continue life sans a pronounced limp. I hope he never reads this. It would do wonders for his ego and I've heard that he doesn't need any help in that department.

I haven't slept with a lot of guys. In fact, I think my body count is quite low for someone my age. Most women end up sleeping with a few loons, or with a guy whose penis is half the size of their pinkie finger, but I think I've been lucky in that department. If I had to put the list in any discernable order, say, best to worst, I think that I could without reliving any truly traumatic moments. There was, however, the one guy I was dating who kept turning his head from side-to-side during sex to whatever house music beat was playing in his head, and the guy who growled/groaned incessantly, AND the one who couldn't kiss. And the one who sweat buckets. That was kinda gross. Like making love in a tidal wave.

I guess at one point in my life, I was very fascinated with sex because it was something new that I had discovered, and I wanted to do it as much as possible. Nowadays, it's more about quality.

Yes, I realize how corny that sounds, but it's the truth.

Gold Shoes

Every woman should own a pair of gold shoes. It's a must. Gold shoes do something for the soul.

I walked into a shoe store today and lo and behold, the gold pumps. My heart skipped a beat. I tried them on. They fit. I slapped the plastic on the counter and walked out with my gold pumps. It's such a frivolous purchase that it makes you giggle. The thing is, you can only wear them with certain colors. I definitely know that I can wear them with jeans, and maybe an all-black outfit. I'm usually a very understated person, so I can't imagine wearing them with bright colors, but I'm so excited!

I Need an eBay Chaperone, STAT!

I'm usually a very astute shopper, but today I had a misstep.

I've been in desperate need of a digital camera for quite some time now, and since I'm the last person on earth who doesn't have one, I decided that it was now or never. As far as purchases go, I usually do a very good job, and I almost always walk away with something that I really like. I'm not afraid to spend a lot of money on something, but like any person with 3 brain cells, I'd rather spend less if I can.

So, that was my motivation for going on eBay to purchase a digital camera this afternoon. I've known people who have gotten so addicted to eBay that they'd sell their toenails on there if it didn't hurt to rip them off, so I wanted to exercise caution and discretion. I wanted to go on the site, find an adequate digital camera, and then log off, never to darken eBay's door again.

First off, I see this digital camera for $7.99. Now, I'm a smart girl, but for some reason, by brains slid out of my pants when I saw the price. Shipping and handling was another $7.00. You're telling me I can have my very own digital camera for less than 15 bucks? Oh hell yes, I want it!

I should have known that something was wrong when I was the only bidder. There are always at least 75,000 people bidding for the most obscure things on eBay, so why wouldn't there be other sensible people trying to grab an $8 digital camera? Because (sensible being the operative word here), all the sensible people were using their $7 for something worthwhile.

I was so proud of myself when I "won" the bid for the camera. I did a little dance. I patted myself on the back. And then, and only then, did I decide to check the specs on this "camera." First off, don't digital cameras usually boast like 7,8, maybe even 12 megapixels? Maybe more, right? I don't know, I'm not a digital camera aficionado, but I do know the difference between 7 megapixels and oh, say...0.08. Yes, my brand new camera is kicking down doors with a whopping 0.08 megapixels. I add the 's' onto the end of megapixels with a heavy heart, because, if 4th grade math serves me correctly, 0.08 is less than 1. I will have much better luck drawing a picture with my toes. Wanna hear more? Does it come with accessories, you ask? Why sure it does! It comes with a serial (yes, SERIAL) port connector cable. What in the blue hell am I gonna do with a serial port connector cable? You know you're up shit's creek without a paddle when you product needs to be attached by the serial cable, circa 1995. I might as well have purchased a dot matrix printer.

Sigh. So now I have to wait for my digital etch-a-sketch to arrive. And when it does, I don't think I will even open the package. What's the point? It's not going to work, I won't be able to connect it to my laptop, and every picture I take will probably look like one of those weird posters everyone used to have back in the day. You know, the one where you had to stand like 6 feet away from the damn thing and cross your eyes to see the picture, because close up it was all dots and squares and shit.

For $7.99, I could have bought a pack of cigarettes. Even though I don't smoke, it still would have been more useful to me than this damn camera. Stop laughing!!

A Lifetime of Cussin'

I love Lifetime movies. Embarassing as it is, I must admit it. There's something to be said for the formulaic, anticlimactic nature of a Lifetime movie. You will never be surprised, there's virtually no suspense, and they always find a way to tie things up nicely at the end. If you want to watch television without paying attention to it, you can with a Lifetime movie. Your brain is allowed to take a vacation while the characters flit across the screen, acting out re-fried melodrama ad nauseam.

Most, if not all of the movies involve some ill-fated love affair. The victim is almost always a woman, and it always takes her much longer than it should to realize that her boyfriend/spouse/lover/best friend-turned-lover-turned-spouse is betraying her. About halfway through the movie, the woman suddenly turns on her brain, and she spends the next 55 minutes trying to outsmart her man. She almost always does, and then the credits roll.

What I wonder is what would happen to Lifetime movies if they allowed cursing and nudity. Would they even exercise their right to show boobies and throw f-bombs? Would that take away from the saccharine melodrama, adding unecessary grit and tawdryness to otherwise pedestrian fare? Lifetime is a cable network, after all. Can someone please arrange it? For once, I'd like to hear a woman vent her frustrations in true four-letter fashion.