Eating: Um... life?
Drinking:Dasani water
Wearing: Jeans, black tank top with built in bra, lavender panties, eith a little sleeping kitty on them, my claddagh, green choker and matching earrings, contacts, vestiges of the day's make-up, black belt.
Listening to: *Hummmmrumblerumblerumble* It's my washing machione making contented noises.
Chatting with: Keeping my own counsel.
Thinking: "I need to concentrate on my posture more."
Remembering: Dave's tongue ring.
Glad for: My ability to move past fear into growth.
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I am music whore all time - is relative
I'm temporarliy back. Temporarily.
Once in a while, I will find "The Song." This song is so amazing, fills me with the sort of enegery that only conmes after an orgasm, and one that you know will soon be followed with more. For a short while, it becomes my soundtrack, my mantra. I feel it playing in my chest, as I make eye contact with the fuck-worthy guy at Jack-in-the-Box. I can feel the bass line as I draw my tongue across my lower lip, capturing his attention utterly as the clerk hands him his order. "The Song" come to a glorious, pounding climax as I slowly smile at him as I walk out the door and jump into my truck. I know I've made his day.
Quote for the Entry: "What are you thinking?" -Marc
"'Cool these engines, calm these jets'. It's the lyrics to a song. Sometimes I use music to fill up the empty space where otherwise I would have to think." -Me
all time - is relative