Junk In The Trunk

That trunk being mine. I'm note sure if it was the cheesesteak I ate the other day or the burgers from the grill last week, either way, my jeans are certainly fitting a little tighter then usual. But a little extra cushion never hurt anyone!

The Pen Name

While we're on the topic of nicknames, I'd just like to say that I've decided that I really dislike my nickname, or pen name as it were, for The Second. It totally doesn't fit who he is. I don't know why this didn't occur to me earlier, especially considering the fact that on numerous occasions he has voiced his own distaste for it. He's too smart and knows me too well to have not figured out that I was talking about him all along.

I suppose that being away from Tennessee for the last few days has given me a different perspective on certain things, and this is one conclusion that I've come to. So it's back to the drawing board for this one!

Wild Thing

Throughout my life I have acquired many nicknames, some of which are better left unsaid. Still it never fails that I meet someone new and they too, have some burning desire to give me yet another one. In fact, it was just this last week that I was dubbed "Wild Thing."

I was at the hospital, of course. It seems as if Memorial has become my permanent residency. I feel like I ought to set up shop in one of the empty rooms, but I digress. It was around midnight or so, and we were grateful for a few moments during which we could catch our breath and rest our legs. I was alone that night - "alone" meaning The Second wasn't working, neither was Santa Claus, and Momma, my saving grace, had called in with family matters. Luckily Alabama and The Baracuda were working on 1 Central and thus I decided to meander up the hall and chat with them for awhile.

Amidst the telemetry alarms sounding from the monitors, the phone ringing, and some AC DC pumping in the background were the sounds of 2 Southern accented laughs combined with the more Northern dissonate tones of my laughter. Around the corner walked Oatmeal's new protege, whom I have yet to assign a nickname. The Baracuda pathetically tried to maintain her composure as he struck up a conversation. I wasn't surprised when she admitted that she has a small crush on him, despite the rumors that he has one foot off the path, which she was quick to refute. And with the way he was flirting, I had no reason to believe otherwise.

Glancing over at me he said, "What's up Wild Thing?" Excuse me? " Where are you coming up with that one?" I asked. Apparently, according to his vampire logic, the small, quiet girls are really housing some wild beast-of-a-woman. Me of course, being small and supposedly quiet (ha. . . .you'll rue the day you branded me as quiet!) am a Wild Thing, or should I say "Thang"?

But what I really want to know is, why is it that being small and quiet makes me a Wild Thing? How come it can't be because I make everything groovy?

Finding Contentment

It's been creeping up on me for some time now, but really only just slapped me across the face about a week ago. I suppose you'd call it an epiphany. For quite awhile now people have been lecturing me on the importance of being content with myself. But even more than that, I've discovered the importance of being content with the way my life is.

For so long I've bemoaned the fact that I'm single, while in the background of my wailing, I have many friends, both married and single, who have tried with much persistance to convince me that this is a good thing. Did I forget to mention that their persistance was unsuccessful? It was! Until these last few weeks.

I'm not sure when it was that I realized being single is so wonderful. Perhaps it was one of those many nights where I've laid awake until 3:00 AM. Regardless of the when, I can officially say that I've found contentment. Of course I still have my moments when my skin aches because I haven't been touched, or I'm so lonely I feel like suffocating. But hopefully those moments will become few and far between. I'm really looking forward to just being able to enjoy freedom and maybe even learn a little more about myself along the way. Quite frankly, I'm tired of worrying about Mr. Wonderful and when I'm going to find him. My heart's still hurting and healing all at the same time.

Otherwise, I'm just happy, nothing more, and nothing less, except for when someone approaches me and asks me about The Second's soon departure to CCU. But that's another blog. . . . .

A New Favorite

If you happen to see me cruising in Bianca and I'm singing and dancing it's probably because one of my new favorites is playing on the radio. Check out the lyrics below. This guys is a majorly talented lyricist. He has a way with words that I've never really seen (or should I say heard?) before in music so modern.

Because of You

Want to but I can't help it
I love the way it feels
It's got me stuck between my fantasy and what is real
I need it when I want it, I want it when I don't
Tell myself I'll stop everyday, knowing that I won't

I got a problem and I don't know what to do about it
Even if I did I don't know if I would quit, but I doubt it
I'm taken by the thought of it, and I know this much is true
Baby you have become my addiction, I'm so strung out on you
I can barely move, but I like it

And it's all because of you (x3)
And it's all because. . .
Never get enough
She's the sweetest drug

Think of it every second
I can't get nothing done
Only concern is the next time I'm gonna get me some
Know I should stay away from, cause it's no good for me
I try and try but my obsession won't let me leave

I got a problem and I don't know what to do about it
Even if I did I don't know if I would quit, but I doubt it
I'm taken by the thought of it, and I know this much is true
Baby you have become my addiction, I'm so strung out on you
I can barely move, but I like it

And it's all because of you (x3)
And it's all because. . .
Never get enough
She's the sweetest drug

Ain't no doubt, so strung out (x2)
Over you, over you, over you

Because of you
And it's all because of you
Never get enough
She's the sweetest drug, she's the sweetest drug

- Ne-yo

It's Coming

Change that is, almost like a flood. I've found myself holding my breath for the last few days in a vain attempt to suppress the equally massive wave of emotions I feel just thinking about it all. The important question is, how long can I keep this up?