Now I Can't Call Her a Hungry Varmit

I am alone in ________ Hall.
________ is very creepy at this moment, so I don't know how much courage I have to stay. I have a bag of Cheezits, 20oz. Diet Pepsi, and 60+ finals in front of me. My office door has a good lock & I had to access 3 locks to get in the building. I imagine I am safe.

After a 3 hour coffee w/C, I'm OUT.
We started talking about writing,
and one thing led to another,
soon we were out of control, and BAM--
I gave her my web addy.
But geez, it wasn't like she whipped
out a folder and pen as soon as I mentioned
blogging as my writing outlet . . .
I spelled it with two "L's" for "some" reason, Freud.

The cheezits are now gone.

If C is reading this, then I fear I will be all about stroking.
I will definately have to step up my writing--
edit--
polish--
rethink word choice, ect. ect.
D*mn. I like being lazy. But she has typos too.
Like that! See! I wanted to put a "smiley face" after the typo sentence . . .

And if C knows, then A & K must know. Soon.
Solidarity.
Help?? S?? How do I keep my blog
from turning into our listserv??

The Good Thing:
Opening communications between my private life, familiy life,
academic life, and spiritual life could be a good move.
Sherry Turkle would suggest that this blog could help be pull the pieces
of my fragmented self together . . .

The Bad Thing:
I might just clam up tighter. Fantasize more.
Walk into a pet store with a blunt weapon.

The In-Between Thing:
I could start another blog,
a darker blog,
a blog that explores my unspeakablness.
I could rename it with a yahoo account.

So--that's 6 live readers.
Remember what I suggested about unholy numbers?