Whew.

It's taken me a while to get to the place I am. I feel totally worn out, sore, braindead but it's all comforting because it wasn't until just recently that I've noticed my blue becoming purple. I actually think - and correct me if I'm wrong - that I am healing. It's so true that I am infamous for my silly decisions regarding myself. I am a pro at seeing what other people are like and what they are going through; relating their actions and behavior to the events going on in their lives. This comes from being the daughter of a counseulor. But even when I stand in front of a mirror and look at myself through and through I still only want to see the best. Do even better. Carpe Diem. Become a better speller.

What a tumultous 2003 this has been. Where did the first half of it go? I'd like to find it and give it a good kick in the pants, that's what I'd like. The real truth of the matter is I am not the busy woman I like to pretend I am. I go to work, go to the mall, maybe run an errand with a friend and then perhaps hang out with a brother for a dinner run or a night out at the Rainbow. My friends are a tiny pool of wonderful people, but busy wonderful people. With all my free time, I've discovered that songwriting and making websites are a great way to pass time and forget you're sad cause you have to stay at home. Perhaps one day me and my little guitar will go to grand places... I just can't understand where this whirlwind of chaos blew into the first half of this year. Maybe it's much like Dorothy; this terrible tornado picked up my house and before I could say "Oz" it dropped me right into January 1, 2003. Suprise, Ginger!

The boy zone does ache. I am still reeling from the recent blow but just like a mom, mine was right. Time helps and may even *gulp* heal. Can it be true? This purple sensation seems to be a sign of it. But we'll see just yet. I don't know if it heals as much as it patches.

I admit, it is a wonderful journey that I am on. Even though if you ask me out loud in front of about 4 people I will state that I hate love, I hate men, relationships make me puke, and I will do it loudly. But if you catch me behind the espresso machine at work I will be secretly checking out boys between the milk wand and the decaf coffee grinder and there I will tell you how I miss love, but am only ready when it comes to me. And then I will proceed to make a latte topped with the pathetic attempt of a heart-shaped rosetta and reflect on all the lessons I have learned in such a short time.

Counting to 10, marching through rainy day parades and gnashing my teeth at happy couples are certainly my forte' (and a passion, at that!) but recently instead of fighting it, tugging it, pulling it... I've done something I don't think I've ever done before. I've turned my back and walked my two little checkered-Vans feet away. It's still been hell, the nightmares post-relationship don't stop - I just had one last night. But the point is that I am going places.

Somewhere.

I am going somewhere.