It's inevitable.

All good things must come to an end. Why they always end before my birthday is beyond my comprehension.

What not to think about...

I'm turning 37 in a few weeks. 37. The same age as my favorite uncle when he succumbed to cardiac arrest. 37. Just three more years and I'll be 40. I still have so much I want to learn, do, experience... I just realized, if I died this year, I would've pretty much died one GINORMOUS failure.

And also...

"Here I come to save the day..."

Always something there to remind me...

There's nothing better to wake up to than to someone reminding you that you matter.
Absolutely nothing.

In other news, I've got a lot of things on my mind. A lot of stuff has happened that has made me step back and take stock. I've made a few decisions. Here's hoping that they would be more beneficial than detrimental.

I know I've made loads of declarations over the years and nothing pisses me off more than to see myself backtracking or eating crow but c'est la vie. Sooner or later something will happen that will light a fire under my ass and I'll get on down to the serious business of growing up and taking responsibility.

I really do hope it's sooner. In a few more weeks I turn another year older. One more year to add to the hundreds of years I've already wasted. I'm tired of being the family underachiever. Anyway, writing has been my one solace. Paper journals are getting thicker with stories, essays and yes, even poetry.

Anyway, in case it's coming across as though I hate my ever loving guts, I don't. I love who I am. I just know I can be a better version of myself. But 3 or 98, I'll still love toys, I'll still love boys and I'll still swoon at the mention of "babygirl."

Bubble Wrap Saves the Day

I pop bubble wrap at 2.20 bubbles per second! I popped 196 bubbles in 1 minute and 29.2 seconds at www.Virtual-Bubblewrap.com! Can you beat my score?

Whining about 13

I'm seriously craving for the next installment of Alexandra Trese. I'm having comic book withdrawal already. I gotta have my Trese and I gotta have her now. Dagnabit.

You've Got Mail.

"I turn on my computer, I sign on, I wait impatiently as it connects and my chest catches my breath as I hear three little words. 'You've Got Mail.'

I hear nothing, not a sound on the city streets just the beat of my own heart. I have mail-- from you."

Sigh. I miss the butterflies.

Gotta Get a Gunn.

After watching Tim Gunn's Guide to Style, I went over to my poor excuse for a wardrobe and promptly burned everything. Kidding. Why would I do that when I barely have any clothes already? But oh the temptation was too much....

I have absolutely NOTHING of the 10 Essential Wardrobe Elements. Seriously. And I'm already 36 years old. Well, 37 this July but let's not quibble over age, shall we? Anyway, I think I'm going to start a petition to have someone come to the house to make me over. Top to bottom. A complete overhaul. Everything must go. Except the toys. Touch those and die.

Oh how fun would that be?

By the way, my favorite word is quibble. Just saying.