Saccharine Thoughts

In the angstier periods of my life, I revert to listening to a Slacker station which I've titled 14-year-old self . As you may imagine, it consists of the scream-y pop-punk that I listened to in high school. I've been rather embarrassed lately to find that my 25-year-old self still really, really likes The Used .

The Dude has 2 cats. One, I am convinced, may be manic depressive as she turns without warning from a cuddly purring little ball of fur in my arms to a gremlin intent on chewing off said arm; the other is a very large diabetic cat with a hair fetish. That being said, I can completely empathize with this. x2. From Simon's Cat

Who cares. Who cares if it's sensible or logical; if it's sound, rational, justified or guaranteed to end well. I'll take my delicious ambiguity over lackluster security any day. "I wanted a perfect ending... Now, I've learned the hard way that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Ah, delicious ambiguity." - Gilda Radner Also, sometimes I think Bill Lawrence is mocking me.

Her Morning Elegance

Oh Scrubs, you make me blush, laugh and sometimes want to cry.