These are my pants. They are ranting.

stolen moments, or just my sack

Last night some asshole stole my sack.   My Betsey Johnson bag that the boy bought me for my birthday last year.  Will all my cards, my license, and 2 cameras in it.   with the sparkly sack in it he got me for Christmas.   The bar wsa shady about it.   But Officer Derby was really nice.  He looked like a little beaver walrus DNA mixture.   My cell phone is gone -- and there very well could be suggestive photos on it.

I'm so pissed.

Today is the last day of my 20s

I woke up scratching my head because I of course, am totally scritchy.   I rolled over and saw 7:30AM on the clock, which means it was really 7:15AM because I try to trick myself into waking up early.   I'm smarter than I think.   I was irked because I really wanted to sleep in today.   I thought it was going to be easy to sleep in since I kept falling into a light coma during the 2nd to last episode of the 1st season of The Wire.   Just in time to see Kima get shot.   But I digress.   This is the last day of my 20s.   It's weirding me out more than a little.   Well, actually... if we're being honest here, and I think we are... I'm not weirded out at all.

I just feel like it's not real.  Ya know?  I got a card that said "Happy 30th Birthday!" and I felt I had opened someone else's mail.   THAT card is for ME?  I am 30?  It just seems so surreal.  It's not an accomplishment or anything, but it's seriously something I could never fathom for myself.  Literally.  30.  So weird.   I mean, I think of my mom being 30.  Or people in Connecticut being 30.  Not me.   We were walking up the stairs last night after dinner at Wild Ginger (SO GOOD) and the boy said "man, 30... shouldn't you be, like, on your 3rd kid?"  Funny guy!

So that's it people.  The end.   The end of the public nudity years.  Or the beginning of a new decade of debauchery?   Only time can tell.   

Let the birthday shenannigans begin!

I took today off work and so did the boy - and we are going to run around all over town.

And I will be 30.

Anna Nicole Smith is dead.

Ok, I can't lie.   I think it's really sad.  Her story is just sad all around, regardless of what you think of her upbringing or anything like that.   It's about a human being.  And she's still a human being and her story really does make me sad.

Sometimes I'm just a softy.

armpits and acrobats

My armpits itch really bad.  Ok, everything on me itches really bad.  Not in a fungus or lice way, but in a deep inside the skin, it feels so good to itch this hard, way.   It's bad.   I am scratching constantly.  My face scratches and burns, my head scratches.  My back is a mine field of nail marks, not from getting laid, but from getting dragged over by my nails nightly.   And now my pits are a bright red angry dry nest of skritch and skin.  and no lotion helps me.  It only stings momentarily and then invites me to itch almost immediately afterward.