Harry Connick Jr was on Oprah. thought he was an actor. apparently he's a singer. she asked him how he does it. being married for so long.

something along the lines of "I love my wife so much" and "finding someone who you can be with forever doesn't happen for everyone" and "so I can't fuck it up".

okay. okay. he didn't curse on network television.

point still valid.

what specific kind of hurt is it that you don't want to relive?

heartbreak.

from the desk of tiny and toya.

"Jesus be a shrink"

but did u just type phrozen?

absolutely.

Jesus loves you.

that's all I got going for me right now

where's ur emmy?

i wish i was making this shit up

walking to the train this morning, a Verizon van pulls up by the park. I pay no mind, whoever's in there is prob just making sure that the whole neighborhood is IN. taking my usual route, I cross the street, walking past the van to get into the park.

excuse me! excuse me! miss!

fuuuuuuuuuuck. not this early.

I just got three questions for you:
How old are you?
Do you have any kids?
And can I marry you?

ure joking, right?

you're not gonna talk to me? can I at least give you my business card?

oh damn, you really are serious about yourself, huh?

try again.

the great depression

dear bank of america execs,

you guys (thankfully) didn't manage my multi-million dollar portfolio, just the pennies that i threw in there every couple of weeks so I could convince myself I was learning to save money. you may recognize me by my sitekey, "piggy wiggy"? or the girl who calls every couple of months for the overdraft reversal? oh, forget it. not important anyway.

so what do I want from you? well, though you may not know me, you certainly know my friend, a nice girl from new orleans, and you lured her with your promises of fortune, networking, great experience right outta college, stability. i guess things were cool for the first 18 months of her time with you dreamkillers, but once you decided it was appropos to send the economy into a tizzy, you sent her packing, heading back to the NO.

now granted, though it pains me to say it, she hated new york, and she missed home, and all that shiz, her time here wasn't done. we were just learning how to cook with less seasoning salt. we were in the process of memorizing all the jokes in "baby mama." and the beyoncé sing-a-longs while zooted out of our minds had certainly only just begun.

you took away our dates at chicken. you took away our slumber parties. YOU TOOK AWAY OUR CREDIT CARD TO PAY FOR OUR POST 9PM CAB RIDES.

how small of you? to me you look RIDICULOUS.

who am I supposed to exchange childish snickers with when Glenn says "if you can't ride it on an 8, I understand"? who's gonna force me to stay in a fitting room for an hour because she keeps finding more shit for me to try on? who's going to ensure that I strive for civility?

who's going to attack me with peanut butter? who's going to insist upon rubbing my face because that's what she does to people she loves?

and is bossip not running for president anymore? because i haven't gotten my daily campaign email in months.

i know nothing lasts forever, but shit, we were just getting started. i still haven't found the perfect nude gloss.

well, it was fun while it lasted.

with hate,
suZie.

#13. I love affection/attention and cuddle/snuggle with whichever parent/relative/friend lets me.

i'm sure some therapist somewhere will say that i have some issue where i need to feel protected which probably stems from some nightmare on elm street when i was a wee lass, but i think i just like body heat.

s: would you cuddle with me?
k: only if you blew me. you get my big muscles and I get my rocks off.
s: !!!!
k: what? it's about reciprocity. but it's all up to you, it could be 1 minute or 30. how badly do you want it?

i'll pass.

i'm just not that into you

part of the curse of my shyness is that when i'm being pursued by someone i'm really not interested in, i have a problem letting him know because i'm really not into the business of hurting feelings. unfortunately, it actually may hurt him more, as i drag my feet about letting the gentleman down gently. in seeking advice from friends, i'm most often hit with an "ignore his ass. he'll be okay." and it's not that i don't think that he/they'll be okay, i just, for some reason, feel really badly about these things.

until i saw that damn movie.

without giving it away, they made women look pathetic. the directors/producers/screenwriters/anyone remotely involved in the production made it seem as though we're running after every guy that even looks in our direction. and don't let him speak to us-- the wedding bells are ringing in our ears. guys, i hate to break it to you, we're not that desperate. some time may be spent trying to translate a text message, decode a wall post, figure out who couldve possibly written that in the Honesty Box, but that's just a byproduct of this digital age that we're living in. to be honest, i'm done talking about guys, relationships, what can be. it's tiring and mostly uninteresting. i could be saving the world or something, not pining over some shit who probably could never match up to me, as the movie suggests.

so fuck that. the guns are drawn.

honey, i was never interested in you. your delusions of grandeur will get you in trouble.

and you are four years too late.

and you. over you in '09. '010. infinity. and beyond.

happy valentine's day!

what I did last night

well...not really. but a girl can dream, vividly, right?

and now a word from cat nertz

"that's what happens- God sends you a good man and you send it right back"