RETROACTIVE POST WARNING:

This post was intended to appear November 20th and due to my ditziness it did not. Here it is though. Freedom and wheat...


Hey guys.

I know I have been extremely delinqunet in my blog writing lately, and so today I have set aside an hour, dedicate solely to providing you with good quality tit-for-tat blogmania.

The reason I have been unable to provide you with any digerstable reading can be directly blamed on my present ADD. With this new job and the whole crazy way I have been trying to live on like 3 hours of sleep a night, I haven't been able to focus on one thing for more than 22 seconds. And everything is the worse for it. Just ask my roomate. Poor thing, I am thoroughly surprised she has not had me arrested for the dirty dishes I have not cleaned in the past three weeks. It really is a criminal amount.

So the latest saga... The birthday. The boys. The kisses.

Yesterday was my birthday and instead of praying for someone to throw me a surprise party, or hoping my parents would remember or sulking in the misery that was the birthday blues, I decided that there are far too many people in this month that deserve a good party. Namely my roomate, Ms. Tattoo, two of "The Boys" and Ms. News. In order to keep my sanity and enjoy my birthday for once, I made a party for all of us. We had a luau theme at my roomates parents house, a chinese gift exchange and a couple of dips in the hot tub, all of which made for a really nice party.

"The boys" came into town, complete with their swim trunks just for little old me and let me tell you, I did not recieve a better present, nor could I have designed one, than to have the four of them on my doorstep. I dont' know what it is about them, but having only met them twice i can honestly say that I love them to pieces. I don't know why or how or whatfor or wherefore, but I do.

I suppose they should all have names here so that I could provide proper descriptions of them and so that I could enumerate the reasons that I love them. But it would be a feat. They could be "Boy 1" Ect., but that is hardly fitting for men I wouldn't mind marrying. The easiest thing would be to have them named "Mr. First initial here,"... If they weren't 2 and 2 of the same first initial. I would love to break my own rule and use first names, only because remebering the first names of four absolutely gorgeous men that would make any girl drool her coherency right out of her face is a feat to be proud of... But I just simply cannot do such a thing to myself or to my little buddies. Thats would just be un hott...

Oh well, untill I can think of a system, I suppose I should move onto the kisses; I know you are all awaiting this one with baited breath...

So The Boys walk up to the party house and they come in and we do the huggy huggy how are you I'm fine you smell good intro. And they hand me a bunch of b-e-a-utiful flowers which my easily distracted butt left at my roommate's parents house, and an extraordinarily large glass jar full of Hershey kisses. Well the night goes on and the hershey jar ends up as a gift in the gift exchange and i had to fight tooth and nail, scheming with the eldest to keep it.

And then there was one of those moments. One of those moments where all you can think is "Man, I need to marry/ make out with this kid right here, right now or I am going to explode." And I did. Explode that is. I don't know what to do, I am such a mess. I am sooooo in something with one of them and there's really nothing I can do about it, because at this rate, he'll just be learning how to spell my first name by the time I am picking out a wedding gown. SOMETIMES I HATE BEING ME. I do this everytime. I set my heart on someone/something/some situation that is so improabable it's sick and then, OUT OF NOWHERE, I get dissapointed. You'd think I would learn by now. Thats not too likely though...

Well I have officially spent an hour typing this and I have provided you with 15 minutes of somewhat stimulating material. I feel like I should offer shirts for entries like this one... Shirts that say "I read Luly's blog and all I got was this stinking shirt..."