kelland

Anniversary time is a cryish, cuddly, cutesy occasion. I've enjoyed mine. Dan compiled a photo album of the two of us complete with snippets of lyrics to "our love songs" on pink heart post-it notes. He also made me a mixed CD of those said love songs. Gush. I cried. We cuddled. It was cute.

I was thinking of a few things the other morning, tossing in the stagnant heat, attempting to get back to sleep after he left for work. I told myself that I should write them down. Here are those few things.

I'd like a vibrator for my birthday. That's not a joke.

If there were a game called The Wheel of Misfortune, would it consist of contestants constantly spinning a wheel to LOSE money? Think about it.

I have no idea what the third thing was, honestly. I'm sorry.

I'm tired of self-pity in my life. Self-pity on my part, yes. But more so, I'm tired of watching others wallow in the vast thick of it, their lack of motivation, their blaming and pointing and misdirecting, so forth and so on when everyone knows that even you don't believe your own defenses. God helps those who help themselves. I no longer feel sorry for you.

On a happier note, I am pretty content otherwise in my life and social affairs. My birthday is one week from today. The official end to being something-teen. There will be a large party of sorts at Dan's house in Columbus on the 28th. If you know about it and aren't coming (without providing a just reason), you should be ashamed.

I watched some DVD-age of Batman: The Animated Series last night. That was my favorite show at age six. Oh, memories.

P.S. Washing dishes for five out of seven days of the week is terrible, and I don't recommend it. It's never ending. It's nauseating, at times. It doesn't allow for much social interaction with fellow employees. And it rips your hands up to all hell.