Un: Talk to her. Get this shit figured out. No more ignoring each other. We're going to talk, and we're going to understand each other. And it's going to end well.
Deux: Talk to Mom. Get this shit figured out. No more ignoring the fact that she brushes me off whenever I try and act civil. We're going to talk, and we're going to understand each other. And it's going to end well.
Trois: Talk to... him. :-/ Get some of this stuff figured out. No more hiding behind a smile as I wonder what really happened. I just reallyreallyreallyreally hope that this doesn't cause anymore awkwardness... Hopefully I can keep my tongue from running away from me, and actually tell him what's going on in my head... something you all know I'm so wonderful at doing. But we're going to talk... if I can find the nerve/time to ask him to coffee (which shouldn't be as scary as I'm making it, considering that he's usually cool with this stuff), and hopefully we can understand each other. Or I can understand him. Hm. But it's going to end well, I know it. Mhm, yus. -frets-
NEXT WEEK. IS CLOSURE WEEK. DO NOT LET ME CHICKEN OUT.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
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About Me
- Quill
- I'm deliciously random, in case you couldn't tell from reading my blog. I go off on tangents--often. And I have mental mood swings. I can go from happy and optimistic to brooding and sulky in a matter of minutes. But I'm lovable. I own a vivid imagination, and a good heart. I'm a shoulder to cry on, if you need it, and I'll try and offer my best advice. In a nutshell, I think I'm a good person--not to be egotistic, or anything. Blargh. Oh, and I like to ramble, too. Just a bit. So I'm gonna stop now. Yeah. Just like that.
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