It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood. The sun is warm and pouring down as I sit on this small but loved balcony. There are so many things going on, but I really have nothing to do...Ever feel like that? So, I write. I have plenty of "notepads" (for lack of a better term) to choose from: this blog, myspace, a "real" journal, word, and dare I confess facebook as well? Oh sure, why not!
I have no idea why I am into the computer so much; I guess because it makes me think I'm cool to be friends with cool people like Bono and Cher and Marc Broussard. Technically, we aren't friends. I only have 4 friends on myspace. I guess I'm not as cool as I thought. Facebook's a different story...Friends out the wazoo. I hope no one is reading this. I feel that it's a total waste of your time. So sorry. I'm boring myself, actually.

There is a massive bumble bee swarming my head at this very moment. I wish you could see it. I named him fat daddy-he's huge.

I have a battle wound on my arm from a fierce game of late night kickball. I was dodging a peg and slid into home. Home was a metal grate and was followed by a large space of brick. I wasn't there to play like a girl.

If you're still reading this mess, you're truly my hero.