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OK, every so often I pick up one that I think might be a good read. So why do I wind up reading these things?

Fearless was my latest attempt. Why do I do this to myself? Why?

Hero meant to be a Spanish/Danish Aristo who works undercover as DEA officer? Usual virginal heroine.

Do all special ops guys retire to Texas?

Does this woman do any research? Does she really make it up as she goes along?

Why does the heel wearing, natural beauty, suddenly walk with a cane and become plain?

So, hate me if you want, but Palmer is so bad, she's good, in a funny kind of way.
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It's blowing a freaking blizzard.

-20 over the weekend.

I hate snow. I freaking hate snow. Three more years and I'm out of here. Oh who am I kidding, I'll die here and just make frequent trips to civilization.
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So, life goes on. The dog is well. Yes, I'm down to one. Elderly canines pass on to whatever version of dog heaven they believe in. I have ashes to scatter in the spring. No regrets, lives well lived.

I've met somebody new. Well, not new, new. We knew each other after high school. Paths separated and have rejoined. OK, he stopped me for speeding. Instead of a ticket, I got a warning and an offer of a safe driving lesson. Which I'm having on Sunday.

And I checked. He's not married, not engaged, not gay, and appears to see one person at a time.

So breakfast and a driving lesson (hell, I've had the license for years, but if Officer Safety wants to and I'm quoting "brush up my skills" I'll let him.
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Random thoughts are floating through my head.

Am I the only person who is getting a degree because she likes the subject and the reading? Am I wrong for treating a history degree as a big book club with some interesting discussions? The Prof. is OK with my approach and the rest of the class thinks I'm a freak. Oh, well, can't please the masses.

Why is so much historical romantic fiction turning into drivel? Escapism I know. But why are all Vikings/Scotsment/Vampires/Navy Seals automatically great lovers? I've experienced a few of the categories and none of it has been mind blowing sex the first time. You gotta work up to toe curling, screaming sex. And not every guy wants to eat you out the first time he gets into bed with you.

Cadbury creme eggs are the devils tool.

My dog needs to hit the groomers, the nails are long. I wonder if I can get a hair appointment the same time as she goes in? She takes longer than me. The male dogs are happy to run through the lawn sprinkler and shake themselves off. But then I pay one of the neyburs kids to wash the guys. Labs don't take long to dry and the kids like the cash.

Why do hockey players think every woman in a bar wants to be a puck bunny?

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Well, I've dumped the bastard.

I could wail and beat my breasts and spill my guts, but why? There are lurkers who would enjoy all the drama.

Let's just say, he's not who I thought he was. Liar, cheat, and ratbastard can now be added to his resume.

Sex was great but when the hell did it become acceptable to bring home a redheaded bitch and tell me it was going to be fun???

Going to get a GI Joe doll and stick some pins into it.
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Mid terms are OVER!!!

The scheduler must have my picture by the big planner. Two on the same day, one at 8am the next, and to add insult to injury the Sociology midterms were back to back. Barely time to pee and by chewie.

If finals are like that, I think I'll pay a hacker to crash the system.

But I'm going to Barbados just after Christmas. Roll out the rum and rubbers.

Current Mood: crappy crappy

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After the last meeting of the ladies, I've decided to forget about bridesmaids.

Oh, hell, forget about the wedding. I think I'm going to try and talk him into eloping.

I wonder if the Elvis guy in Vegas is expensive?
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I'm engaged. Getting married March 21 next year. Non religious ceremony.

May or maynot invite the parents.
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He's home tomorrow!!

New clothing bought, passport ready, sunscreen packed.

We're off on Sunday to Maui.
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Why don't I have a userpic?

Because I know what I look like.

I have my pictures on disc and in albums.

I want to be free to be me without you thinking "she's a dawg".

I hate having my picture taken, I don't like my smile. No, my teeth are all mine and not that bad.

I want to be woman of mystery.

I have been told (and I'm still laughing about it) that I look like Posh Beckham with some meat on her bones...
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