The thing about having a blog is that you are hyper sensitive to other people's blogs. Suddenly, I feel a responsibility to be up on a number of random blogs for no real reason. I don't even know you blogger people. Who are you? Because your blogs don't really tell me much.
Okay, I am in the kind of pissed off mood which causes me to be inside my room, door closed with DeBarge blasting on the stereo. It is part of the slow jam show "Between the Sheets", which was the unplanned soundtrack to my dramatic past only because it would come on the car stereo at significant moments of drama. Now I just want to blast these slow jams real loud because I feel pissed off in a cuddly kind of way. If I had some marshmallows I would chuck them in someone's face.
If I could only live by myself, maybe with my cat if he could learn to be quiet, out in a meadow free and alone and happy. Alone. Alone. Alone. Seule.
Did I ever tell you that me and two of my friends were going to perform as Exposé in the school air band competition but we all chickened out? See how much you learn about someone when you read their blog. Don't tell anyone that though because it is embarrassing. Thanks.
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