2004-03-05

So much to do. You know how I constantly make resolutions and then I forget to keep them because of my various excuses? Like I forgot to buy water at the store, I slipped and bought diet coke! Guess my gallon-a-day thing will have to wait. Those cookies just fell out of the package and into mouth. Guess my diet will start tomorrow. I smoked the whole pack? Really? Guess my only ten cigarettes a day thing will start tomorrow. But I didn't hear the alarm. Guess my waking up more than ten minutes before I have to be at work thing will have to start tomorrow.

I've decided that's because I don't give myself fun things to do. I only give myself tasks that willl ultimately deprive me. And, while I still intend to do all of those things I tell myself I MUST DO... tomorrow, I've decided I should add some fun things to my to-do list. So here goes. I will do all of these things before this time next year:

-Ride a mechanical bull

-get a tattoo on my lower back (is that fun? I can't decide if that's fun.)

-play the Romy and Michelle drinking game I made up which is only a theory, but hasn't yet been put into practice(where you drink on every "Duh," "Oh, I know," and "Me too!")

-have the Liaison-a-thon- it's a movie marathon I made up where I convince several friends to join me for every version of Les Liaisons Dangerous. This will include Dangerous Liaisons, Valmont, and Cruel Intentions.

-read all the Lemony Snickett books

-read those His Dark Materials books

-get a really short haircut- I mean really short. I've always been too scared to go beyond a layered bob. But I love getting my hair cut and I've always wondered what I'd look like with one of those little pixie-ish things. It could be awful, but hair grows. Right?

I am actually craving a hair cut so bad right now. Things are getting crazy with many of my family members back east. There's bad divorces and custody battles and... You don't want details. The point of how it relates to my hair is- I am powerless to help. And strangely, whenever I'm feeling helpless, I cut my hair. I've decided that it's because I, as a woman, and I might be alone here, have a need to better my personal appearance when I can't make better what's going on inside or around me. I feel I have no control on how my life is going, no real control over my weight, no money to perk up the wardrobe. That's when I grab a pair of scissors and shut the bathroom door and chop away. I usually don't do so bad of a job, really.

I'm trying to let my hair grow until summer. My hair hasn't been past my shoulders in over five years. So I took the scissors to my bangs.

I went a bit far- a little too short. And I look all of twelve now. But it's nice that people aren't calling me ma'am as often. I don't get why bangs make you so young. My forehead lines aren't that pronounced that I look so ancient without them. But I look in the mirror and, honest to God, I actually recognize the me from my first communion pictures. Who knows why?

Besides that, still blocked on novel 2. I think I really, really over-complicated my characters and that's why. I mean, my hero-man is in the FBI- I am so sick of researching it. And his brother's autistic (I wanted him to be more sympathetic because of... don't want to go into the whole plot). I have an autistic cousin and have done some reading up before because of her. But it's not really the research that bothers me.

Now you're all, "Oh, sure." Because, if you ever read this, you know I'm way lazy. But that, unlike every other mess in my life, is not the cause. I can't bring resloution to this many situations in about 60,000 words! It's too much. I can't have three million subplots. There's the main romance between the hero and heroine and there's the lighter romantic subplot between her best friend and her guy. That's got to be all. I can't write with all that going on. I figure I have to change up the brother so he's no longer autistic and give my man a new job. Mmmm. My man. I really do love the man in this one. I gave him such dreamy looks. I liked the guy in the first one, but this guy's burlier (is that a word?) and he has dreamy, green eyes. I think he's a cross between Olivier Martinez and Vincent DiNofrio.

Brain. Shut. Down. Thought. Of. Man. That. Hot. Can't. Compute.