Paradise is exactly like where you are right now ... only much, much better. --Laurie Anderson

I'm exhausted. I just got home from work. Yes, it's after 9 PM EST. And yes, I start work at 8 AM EST. I happen to have some pretty specialized software knowledge, and one of the departments that I want to break into needed some help with that software. So, I worked in their "world" from 10 AM till a little before 8. Then, I had to stop at the Verizon store and exchange my cell phone. They were able to exchange my phone for the exact same one I had before ... and they even moved all my numbers over to the new one! I'm a lucky girl.

No real news on the relationship front. I realized that my social circle here in C-Town is pretty limited to just "couples". So I did what any desperate gal would do ... put an ad on Match.com. (if you want to see it, just email me and I'll tell you my username.) I look at it this way ... even if I just meet some new friends, it's worth the internal strife of knowing that I'm "one of those women". Truthfully, I'm really tired of being alone. I have waited now for nearly three months ... since I've told R how I feel. Maybe C is right ... someday he'll grow up and realize what a mistake we made. But I can't wait around forever for him to get his head on straight. Besides, I need a date for M's wedding in May next year. I figure I should have plenty of time to find someone, right? At the stellar rate I've been going, I should start now. Hell, I should have started three months ago. sigh ...

Another random thought ... I'm really considering sending my info into the Swan show. Damned Z got me hooked on it. I was all on my high and mighty horse, that I wasn't going to condone that sort of sensationalistic television. But for Meghan's sake, if someone wants to spot me $100 grand worth of plastic surgery ... I may consider it! But only if they don't make me wear opera length gloves. I hate opera length gloves.

Oh and today's "WHAT THE HELL" moment: my fish died. I don't understand, he had food, clean tank, and more love than most other fishies. I think I know what happened ... I named him. Every time I name a fish, it dies. R.I.P., Nemo.