Also...

WTF? They killed Ned Stark!!! If they kill "The Imp" in season 2, I'm gonna be seven shades of pissed!

Blog? It's me, Trisha

It's been a long time. It is what it is. I always get a bee up my britches when I first start a new blog. But then... life-a-rama. Whatever, Blog, I don't have to answer to you. I am currently slouching, typing with one hand while eating Hot Pockets and Almond Joys off of a paper plate. I'm not huge on being held accountable. But life-a-rama is feeling strange to me lately. And I need this again. Silly aspirations of being a well-paid writer who never has to speak publicly, but gets to travel all over... I need that idiotic dream. I need to feel like I have some compassion towards an activity. I need to sit at the kitchen table on the rare night that I can't sleep and type away. I need to pour myself a glass of murder-red merlot and light up a cigarette. Despite not really liking smoking or being able to drink wine without immediately falling ill and then asleep. It's fun to sit there, greasy haired, and pretend I'm tortured. It helps me get into the mood. So, the news since I wrote last... I got engaged and married to the same man, Brian. My grim-gram died. It's okay, she was 92. Brian and I bought a house. Last weekend, I cut two of my fingers across the nails while reassembling a shelf that Brian did not want me to take apart in the first place. Girl Power! Anyway, my one finger is starting to look a little Heroin Bob. This may be my last entry ever. Glad we caught up. I lost 45 pounds since this past April, which I will undoubtedly gain back if I don't stop eating like a coconut-addicted, mutant hippo. That would be sad, because being thinner is awesome! The caliber of dudes that hit on me in bars is way higher. Hmmm... That's the big stuff. I have an appointment coming in soon that I need to prepare for, so I'll write more later. I think. Maybe. If I don't forget or lose the ambition or die of a gangrene finger. XOXOX Trish P.S: I will leave you with this...