Why does drama follow me everywhere I go? Why do guys come in and out of my life? Last night, my ex from two years ago--probably the most emotional relationship and break-up of my life--called me at 2:00am, intoxicated. During our hour and a half conversation we covered all of the in depth conversation topics such as life, death, Christianity, love, friendship, past wrongs....there were tears, but not on my part. I realize that the alcohol played a part, but I am lef to wonder just how much of a part. I don't know if I can handle this!

Why does it always seem like guys play games...I'm not even talking about the obviously shady ones, but the good guys who you would categorize as precious. Is there some genetic problem that makes them act the way they do? The reason for my question is the fact that I wake up this morning to an IM message from my dear friend Shooty saying that he is coming to G-ville to visit me today. I was immediately so excited because it has literally been 8+ months since I have seen him. The day goes by and I finally make it back to my room around 4:00 surprised to not have received any messages from him saying that he is here. So what's a girl to do? I call him and instead of being excited in the least, he tells me that he is, in fact, in G-ville hanging out with his older brother and will maybe call me later on....maybe we can hang out and be buddies. What's that supposed to mean? For all I care, he can spend his entire time here with his brother and go home without ever seeing me. Why do guys always pull crap like this??? I know for a fact that one of his sole reasons for making the 2 hour trek was to see me, oh but no, now he has to play like that wasn't his intention at all. I may not agree with homosexuality, but I don't blame lesbians a bit.

Well the deed is done. I now have the coolest tattoo known to man, and of course, I'm not biased in the least. My appointment was Saturday at 12:30, and being the wuss that I am, I drug 3 of my friends along for moral support. The whole ordeal lasted only about an hour and a half (an hour of which I was under the needle). The artist (Trevis) informed me that I could only have one friend back at a time and so naturally SMURFETTE was my choice. When Trevis told me to undo my pants and roll them down a bit, I was happy that I had not chosen MJ to come back. The process started by disinfecting my lower back with a solution that was rather cold but invigorating. Then Trevis began shaving my peach fuzz, but at this point I thought the needle work had started and I was relieved because it didn't hurt at all. Oh no, that was not it. When the needle went into my skin I definitely knew it. Overall, it was a burning sensation that got increasing worse in some spots. I would be talking and then all of a sudden no words would come because of the severe pain. Yeah, so don't ever ask someone if tattoos hurt because that's a stupid question. Half way through the ordeal, MJ did come back to watch. He was alittle uncomfortable, I assume at the sight of my butt crack...but hey we've been friends for years, and who hasn't seen a butt crack. When I got back to G-ville, I was so emotionally and physically exhausted that I slept the rest of the day away. So far, the tat is only alittle sore. Yesterday it seeped alittle ink which I guess is normal. Who knows. It looks amazing though....but the parents pulled out the 'disappointed' card when I dropped the news to them. Oh well, I love it!