L.O., L.O., L.O.V.E.

I am considering getting a tattoo.
No real idea of what it should be.
Which probably means it is a bad idea.
I am so not passionate enough about anything to permanently mark it on my body.
This means it is highly unlikely I will allow someone to poke me with
ink filled needles.
But I feel the need to signify that I have been alive for twenty-one years.
Maybe I should go bungee jumping.
That would be cool.
Perhaps I should learn something new.
Like how to knit.
Or buy a sewing machine.
I could practice my snowboarding skills.
They are lacking.
That is the best idea yet.
I could purchase ten lessons.
Or get myself a ridiculously expensive handbag.
Shoes too.
My secret goal was to loose ten pounds before my birthday.
That was going to be my present to myself.
This was mostly to compensate for the weight I am sure to gain from
all of the alcohol.
I don't think it is humanly possible to loose ten pounds in three days.
Without cocaine or horse tranquillizers anyway.
So there goes that idea.
Anyone have $800 to donate to the purchase of Adobe Creative Suite?
I need it for a class I am taking.
I would never have taken this class had I known I would have to
purchase ridiculously expensive software.

True story: Last night I had a dream where the words "I love you" were
exchanged. Sick, sad, world. I don't know what you are trying to do
Mr. Subconscious, but you needn't ruin a perfectly good thing with
silly emotions.

True story: In class the other day the professor with terrible neck
ties was talkie talking about the fallibility of President Wilson and
President Nixon and how psychoanalysts revealed that unhealthy
relationships with their fathers predetermined their failure as
leaders. I was all like, are you talking about me? EVERYTHING this man
said was like my life. So great, I am destined to be a terrible
President who will make the world explode. Just great.