Drinking Salsa by the Gallon

That's what I do with my weeknights: consume massive amounts of salsa.
It's my new addiction. Right now, it's the only thing that makes me deliciously happy.
(Even the description combines more than one of the senses consequently heightening the experience)

A friend of mine raised a challenge to me recently: to write a novel in 30 days.
(a crap novel, but a novel nonetheless)

My first reaction echoed my inner monologue: "I am not capable of writing a novel! Are you on crack?"
Then idea began growing on me. In fact, I find myself thinking about it frequently.
It will most certainly be crappy, but it will be mine.

One of my ideas includes the main character recalling a time when (she/he?...Not telling) was deliciously happy.
[make sure to dwell on "deliciously" when reading]

Delightfully pleased, wildly passionate with spectacular feelings of excitement on which one's senses endlessly feast,....
And now, nothing.
(the nothing part is my life - not that of my character)

How sad that I feel that my life could not possibly include this delicious happiness anymore.
(unless it came in a jar with cilantro and jalapenos)

Dear Blog

I hate taking out the garbage. I hate it alot.
I hate that I have a dirty filthy house. It makes me depressed and literally sick.
And I'm too depressed to clean it. I'm too depressed in general. Everything sucks.
I hate everything. So there.

k, got the complaining outta the way.

so I got a new kitten and a new computer :)

uh, let's see what else....hmmmm, I really want to go out for a beer and some nachos.
and preferably not by myself.

it's 11:13pm, if you're reading this blog and want to drink beer and eat nachos with me, give me a call ASAP.

yup. great blog.