Not Like I Used to Be

So any average scene-indie-emo kid would speak of dreams, wanting to move to a big city live in a crap apartment with their partner in crime, a lifelong boyfriend or a best friend, work in a crappy coffee shop job while supporting their band, or novel, or art gallery. And yes, just maybe I'd always wanted this...my fun beginning where I'll meet indie-dark-haired-mucisian charming prince man and have my own little family with a fence and a dog and two kids, Ryden and Cassandra. Yes, I have planned that out. Only this is because the dream supports my own moral, or belief, or whathaveyou, that love is the only thing that will ever matter. I don't want money, which I'd need to find that apartment in NYC and to fund my eclectic wierdo expensive fashion taste; I just want my best friends and husband and kids.

Which I've said before, but I have to keep reminding myself. And I'll let it prop me up against all the fame and beauty I could be jealous of. But having a guy is not all that matters. I've got my friends and family to love, and that's okay. When the right guy presents himself, right is the key word in that sentence, there have been plenty unwanted presents, I'll just lick it up like icing on a cake. That wasn't supposed to be sexual. But it really, really sounded that way. Fail. But I'm happy with this, and apparently this is the happiest I've ever been, like my father said. I hope you can find it, too.

The reason for this post is because, wait for it....drumroll I'm going on vacation tomorrow! Here the angel choir sing! Flying to Boston, driving to Bar Harbour, taking the train to New York City. I will be reading, if I can find my book, and listening to music through my obnoxiously large Skull Candy headphones. It's all about the aesthetics for a bit here.

This week has been incredible. My birthday on Monday was amazing. Ms. Feeler and my other wife went to the zoo, and ate cake, and Ms. Feeler 'Spencer Smithed' up the hill. We have officially freaked out the neighbors too many times. Then, I had a bunch of my girls over Friday night. We went to see Scott Pilgrim. As surreal and trippy as it was, Trippin on Balls, I enjoyed it. But as the weekend came in, everyone went home, Ms. Feeler went to Vermont, and I'm exhausted to no end. And I still need to pack.

Mostly, I just miss Ms. Feeler. To a ridiculous amount. We didn't go more than 5 or 6days this summer without seeing each other this summer. 9 might kill me. I might have to storm her family on our way to Maine. We'll just make a left turn and end up in Vermont....right. We're definitely a married couple. Deal with it!




On a side note, jealousy over celebrity crush girlfriend hate thing needs to end. I just watched a video of Brendon Urie dedicating a song his girlfriend and there was HATE in the comment section. Okay, girls, as much as we love him, please realize that you will never, ever date him, or have a chance. It's something that crushes a million teenage girls a year, but even the Jonas girl freaks get it eventually. He's happy, they're adorable together, that's all that needs to be said. Brendon Urie happy, is basically all that matters. And he and Spencer churn out another goddamn record. I'm getting impatient.

Anyway, Peace, Love, and Rock n' Roll. Love you and talk to you in a week.

Song of the Day: "Three Little Birds" covered by Bden.