Alright, alright!

I'm actually not looking for a job. Yet. I'm still hoping to win the lottery.
Nor have I done my taxes.
The first is a big deal, the second, not really at all. Last year's revenue was scandalously little. I'd have made more on welfare. It'll take me all of ten minutes to do my taxes. Anyhoo. (Are you quietly judging me? Cut that out!)

So, I was listening to a CD of me singing for the first time in donkey ages, and it made my throat tense up just listening to it. Yo, I need to take some voice lessons again. Picked up some bad habits while doing the Casino tour. Yikes. Oh well, no time or money to fix it right now, so the folks in the Niagara Falls Casino lounge this weekend are just gonna have to lump it, aren't they? Momma needs to pay off her Visa!

Perhaps instead of getting a real job, I can just barrel full-steam ahead into doing my M.F.A. 'Yeah, yeah,' says the little judgment voice in my head (who invited her along anyway?) 'be a grown up, go immolate yourself at the temple of commerce like everyone else, blah blah blah,' but you know what? The thought of working as an office drone ever again makes me want to cut out my tongue with a spoon.

And while I'm riding that Immaturity train to Avoidance, I'm going to stop by my mom's next week to be spoiled. For weeks. Ta-da! Okay, maybe not weeks. Maybe just two of them. That's right, I'm bouncing out of Montréal, bébé and I'ma gonna eat all the West Indian food I can handle. Within reason of course. And going to the gym everyday. Yeah.
Eat your hearts out, suckas!

By the way, to my buddies who visit, it's okay to drop me a line and say hi! Let me know you've stopped by!

Ciao 4 now Dahlings...*m'wah!*