Wednesday, October 24, 2007


Y’all know how I do this. And if you don’t, it’s not hard to figure out. Dribbles are random thoughts that will never manifest into full-fledged posts but for whatever reason, they’ve stuck themselves into my mind and I can’t let them totally go. So, I dribble…

  • Why does it take one pizza, a chocolate chip cookie, and a bag of potato chips to gain ten pounds and then take 280 hours of exercise and 30 days of grass and carrots to lose two?

  • When a man says he loves you and wants you in his life, but he loves her too and can’t let her go from his life, he’s really trying to tell you that he doesn’t want you in his life. Not really. When a man truly wants you, he‘ll tell you, her and the whole world without a moment of hesitation or doubt. You know this. Now accept the fact that he really doesn’t love or want you in his life and move on.

  • Dirty little secrets always come out sooner than later. It was never supposed to be a dirty little secret.

  • I’m obsessing over little black dresses. I’ve purchased five in the last two months. Each little black dress is cuter and sexier than the one before and the thirty or so little black dresses already hanging in my closet. Sadly, I can’t remember the last time I felt cute and sexy enough to wear a little black dress, much less have a man in a very nice suit to wear it with. I need to start obsessing over something else.

  • Sometimes just getting your feet wet isn’t enough. Sometimes you have to dive in head first and allow yourself to be fully submerged before it makes sense and feels right. So stop worrying about getting your hair wet. Dive.

  • Commitment sucks, relationships are hard work, and love can truly hurt. So what do you do when you’re sick and tired of the hurt and you don’t have the energy for the hard work?

  • I’ve had my fill of fair-weathered friends. No, I don’t have any books to give away. Tell your great Aunt Bertie to call the bookstore and order it like everyone else.

  • I swear there is some sort of life force with a warped sense of humor who gets a kick out of making sure that every time I run into a fione man that I look like I’d just been run over by the fugly bus. And when I look good, and I mean really good, I’m assured to run into toothless Dave, jobless Mike, and Waldo the Wonder-Boy-Without-A-Clue. I’m about ready to kick the humor out of some serious life force ass.

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