Just a quick post about commenting, or in this case, the lack there of.
I had to tweak the security settings on wordpress because spambots have been using my blog to advertise the sale of illegal substances. Not that it matters what they are advertising. They could be advertising the sale of purity rings and the cure for death, but if they were using my posts to place clusters of ads the treatment would be no different.
I know you think it’s lame that I force you to register. It would almost be easier to just email me the comment or complaint, right? Well, whatever you decide to do, I would still like to hear from you. I just wanted y’all (both of you) to know I’m not being a meanie-butt and requiring that only white people comment on my site. I am just trying to keep the site free of robots sent here from the future to make my blog suck.
I wish I had a higher tolerance for alcohol. I just poured my second glass of wine and I’m already getting to the dance-naked-on-a-table-top stage.
I wish I start college full time TOMORROW and I can breeze through it as quickly as possible.
I wish I were more independant and made my own money.
I wish I felt like I owned MYSELF. Right now I feel like most of the decisions I make are to make other people feel good and not to make myself happy. (not counting Deven, of course)
I wish I liked myself more. I want higher self esteem, and logically, I don’t have that many reasons to be as down on myself as I am.
I wish I had a longer attention span and could sit down and pen that damn book I have been meaning to write since I was a teenager.
I wish I had straight teeth.
I wish I could pen a really good screenplay.
I wish I could be a movie star…if only I had TALENT.
I wish I felt sexy and womanly.
I wish I had PASSION in my life of some kind.
I wish I didn’t feel as compelled to whine as I do at this moment.
A couple of nights ago I had a dream that has haunted me since.
The dream started with me having a steamy and bizarre affair with Christian Bale. Yes, Batman. Only, without the batsuit. He was dressed as a member of the private sector.
Anyway, the entire affair was taking place in a run-down old house that I guess we were renting specifically for the purpose of doing it in private, without our spouses’ knowledge. But of course, they find out. I don’t recall Vance really giving a shit, but Mrs. Christian Bale was pissed. And by that I mean livid. We carry on with our raunchy love affair without any concern for their feelings, despite the fact that his wife is hanging around the house and won’t go away. At one point she and her friends are sitting on the nasty, old porch sipping wine and discussing how pissed they are at Christian Bale for doing some strange woman in an old, rotting house.
Here’s where it gets good.
In order to have a love affair, or even sex with my husband in real life or in my dreams, I need to find a sitter for my child. Yeah, he exists and still needs to be dealt with in my dreams. Welcome to motherhood. Anyway, I hurry up and find a rather enthusiastic sitter for Deven so that I can resume fucking the man that most recently portrayed Bruce Wayne with a nasty case of laryngitis. Little did I realize the sitter that I have hired is actually one the wifey’s friends. The sitter returns to the house to announce that Deven has gone missing. I begin to panic, hyperventilate, piss myself, and cry all at once.
This went from being quite possibly the greatest dream ever to being one of the worst. I woke up and saw Deven laying there next to me and breathed a huuuge sigh relief. I was also really horny and wanted to get back to the fucking Christian Bale dream. I then tried to fall back asleep.
I told Vance about the dream and I have been picking on him ever since about it. He gets really mad, almost as mad as when I joke about doing the maintenance man.
Were you guys aware that we just had our 2 year wedding anniversary? Happy days for Vance and me!
Anyone ever see the movie “Newsies”…