La Dee Frickin da

Okay, okay, so I've finally jumped on this "bloggy bandwagon." I'm feeling completely stupid for not getting into it sooner, but I'm a fast learner. That is, when I don't get bored. I can't imagine anyone actually wanting to read this blathering, unless, of course, it's my best friend and partner in crime. Thanks, Kel.

Not quite sure how to catagorize this...is it a journal? Is it a doorway into my inner-workings, my guts if you will? Is it a place to let off steam and rant and rave? I'm sure the answer is yes. Groovy, bring it. Let the top down and crank the tunes, cuz here comes the shit tsunami.

I've been in Vegas for a little over five years. I left a steady job, a three bedroom apartment, and everyone I've ever known to come out here and soak up the sun. I was 25 and invinsible. I can't say I'd do it again, but I don't regret it. I was tired of the snow and bloodsucking bugs of Minnesota. I wanted to have a Vegas address. I wanted to swim in December. I wanted a condo overlooking the strip. I wanted to see stars. I wanted to live the high life. I want I want I want. Want in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first.

All in all it hasn't been a bad run. I've made some great friends, lost a few not-so-great ones, loved and was loved, and enjoyed snippets of VIP treatment and "Who the fuck are you?" looks.

I was a teacher, now I'm a hiring manager/insurance agent. You do the math. Einstein couldn't figure that one out. I'm a gal who goes with her gut, usually it ends up being indegestion, but what the hell, you only live once right?

So I've been saving some weird writings and junk in a file on my computer. I guess this is as good a place as any to keep them. Who knows, maybe I'll get a comment or two. Maybe I might be able to exchange witty phrases and insults with someone. Or maybe I'll just be posting to myself, which is okay too. I'm breezy. ;)