I’ve begun writing. Its technically for school, but its the first fiction I’ve written since my mom passed almost 14 years ago. No, wait, its the second fiction, but the other one was for a smut contest and I only got about a paragraph into it before I got bored. So, I’m writing again, and like every other writer-wanna-be on the planet, I’m proclaiming that whatever it ends up will be the greatest piece of literature to ever hit the shelves… or my advisor’s inbox, but whatever. I’m also trying to figure out how to pitch articles to major publications in hopes that they’ll buy my random trains of thought.

Choo choo!

Speaking of “choo choo,” I’m all belly danced out at the moment, sitting in front of the computer in my lovely blue velour choli, handcrafted by the amazing Durrah. I’m also squeezing my butt cheeks. Yes, I said it. Squeezing my butt cheeks.

Over the weekend, I met “Tie Dye Boy” in all places… my front porch. It seems “Tie Dye Boy” is also “Pizza Man,” and I guess I looked at him weird because he got a little defensive until I explained that I am compelled to check out dyes (which he was wearing), leading us into a 10 minute conversation about tie dyeing and how he had to stop because he had a kid. He gave me his number in case I ever need emergency tie dye advice. Its good that someone has my back.

I also turned in a pretty lengthy piece of essay for my most recent assignment. I have been majorly stressing this term, for many reasons, but essentially, I knew that spring was coming and that I needed to be able to do things with my kids, and its really not easy to type up essays at the playground and not look like a complete dork. I do have limits as to how far I will carry my laptop (my SlackBerry is another story). 17 books in six weeks. I started back to school about a year and a half ago, each term with about 20 books to read (this is my fourth term, plus another huge essay) so I believe I’ve read  close to 100 books in 16 months. Something like that. Do I feel smarter? Perhaps. Do I ever think I’ll be able to read a book at a “normal” pace again and not flag it with dozens of post-it notes? Nope.

Am I excited to be ending this chapter of my life? Yeah, totally… and a wee bit petrified.

Saturday night, The Husband and I went on our annual date (anniversary, valentine’s day, his birthday) to dinner and I made him play pool with me. There was a cute waitress who admired my new amber necklace, and I guess that I smiled a bit too much at her, because I’ve yet to hear the end of my “girlfriend” at the bar. Then he asked me about this other girl who was surrounded by a group of guys (gay, bi or just slutty?). If The Husband is asking my opinion of women, then clearly my gay cup is overflowing, splashing all over the floor of the bar.

Le Sigh.

Anyhoodle, I’m off to resume mommy life and figure out what to do with my time since suddenly, I seem to have some again. I’m going waaaaaay back for the SOTW! Savor it, my friends… savor it.

Turning back… she just laughs…The boulevard is not that bad.