I may have finally met the girl for me.

Probably not, though.

Why am I writing this where someone else might read it?

Oh man. I had the worst nightmare last night. The worst! I was living in this cramped, stuffy house with Kelly green wall-to-wall carpeting and big ugly mirrors and fake plastic grapes in these little urns on the wall. There were all these layers and layers of ugly coverings on all the windows - first a filmy layer, then a heavier faux-velvet thing over that, plus this huge padded, boarded thing above the window, covered in all this flowery fabric. Yuck. I have a very fragile constitution, and an environment like that... I could feel the dust mites in the air immediately, and the mold and the dry rot and the moth balls and the little dusty plates of candy... My god, it was awful! Then I hear a bang, and suddenly there's rock music blasting, and I hear this voice, and this gnarled old woman appears, and she's calling my name in this crazy, deep voice that sounds just like...

Why am I writing this down? This is ridiculous. No one cares about this shit. Why do I waste my time?

Man, I can't believe I haven't posted to my blog in so long. Still, it seems so pointless, posting to a blog.