Happy belated birthday to me.

Okay so seriously, I'm such a pussy when it comes to being a so-called woman. No pun intended. Aren't I hilarious? I just want it to stop. And as my mother puts it, I can't wait until the uterus is gone, and I have a cultasack. (How in the hell do you spell that? Google doesn't seem to know.) I'm telling you, this womanhood thing is SO overrated and not even worth my time. We seriously need some sort of button, fuck birth control. So we can turn on the damn thing when we want to attempt at children. Otherwise, why waste a perfectly ripe little egg? It's really not worth my time, or the egg's time. All that time and journey for nothing? Seriously, my eggs get let down each time. I'm tired of giving them hope, and crushing their dreams of giving me a bratty little baby.

So the birthday was spent with lots of friendly faces and lots of booze, oh and Maya Angelou. I must say, even tipsy, Maya Angelou is one of the most inspiring people I have ever been in the presence of. She just has this aura around her, and you listen to her and you love listening. I wasn't distracted, and I just hated when she was done. And it just gave me another reason to by an insane amount of literature. So it's all good.

So that's pretty much all that's happened. I'm older and crazier...and you know you love it. Later loves.

AND....Victoria. The roses were beautiful!!!! I thank you!!!!!