Two observations: (1) Got no fewer than four friends with relationships on the rocks; (2) I always get hit on more in the spring.

Think they're related: it's spring cleaning. People wanna be out and about maybe, capitalize on the weather, see what else's out there.

As for Heartgirl and me, well, last weekend was just perfect. And we both know that perfect and I don't work well together; she's still tired of hearing me talk. But I'd like to see how our story goes.

There was a time when bad things happened to you, you put on a black mourning jacket as a quiet testament to your sorrow. Nowadays, it's a lotta status updates, vitriol and poor grammar.

That's why I try to sort things out before I write about them. Waited almost a month before I told you about the theft. And three months after my initial breakup to tell you about it. Need time to make sure something's actually something and not a whole lotta nuthin. Wonder if I can still tell the diff.

Everyone's got a place where they go to sort things out. King Midas had his reeds. Lloyd Dobler had his friends.

Me? I keep thinking that I'd like to go elsewhere, and still not necessarily somewhere and tell them my story. Cause who'd believe it? But since I can't, suppose I got this here blog. Write it for me more than anyone.

But it's my birthday and I get to make a request, yeah? I don't ask for much, don't think: world peace, some soup from time-to-time, the occasional call...

My request is this: who's still reading? Yeah, I've got my stalwart group of people that comment and drop by with regularity (thanks guys) but I'm curious if it's just them.

In my head, I imagine there're people that never comment yet read me regardless.

So, just like last year and the time before: wish me a happy birthday and say something, alla you bastards that read me but never say anything.


Music: don’t know if our fate’s already sealed
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So either my parents are reading my blog, someone's telling them about it, or they're eerily perceptive. I've been crashing with them when I get out past 21:30.



Really, really weird.

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I wonder if you and I'd get along in real life.

I'm told I'm funny and smell nice in RL; I'm also told I get moody right quick and disappear for months - years, sometimes. But I'd call or write - or at least wonder how you were. Honest.

It's probably better you just come to this blog and find out what I'm up to, shug, and go, Eh, about the same.

Speaking of the same, I'm sick again. Send soup?

Music: I've fallen from my nest so high above Help me fly I am too afraid try
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