I want to apologize to all my loyal readers for being away for a few weeks. But it was Halloween, and well, you know. Finding a costume is, like, so not easy. Because first I was gonna be Madonna. No, not the yoga-Buddha-mother-to-Lola Madonna. “Boy Toy” Madonna. Like legit. And then Lemon announces she’s going to be Marilyn Monroe. I mean, come on. So then, I had to go all the way back to the drawing board and think of something else, totally opposite of Lemon. But 180 degrees from Marilyn Monroe is all boring. What was I gonna be? A nun? No way. So I told Daddy that I would pass out candy instead. And that’s what I did.
(Sorry, Ms. Bradburn for rambling on about Halloween. But this is a national holiday and totally a current event, so it’s important. Plus, I think my readers would want to know.)
Anyway, back to boring-ville. This week in school, we had to write original poems. Which was actually quite the opposite of boring. And naturally, as a singer-songwriter in the making, my poems were the best. I won’t tell you who I wrote about (but his name rhymes with “Made”). My rhyme scheme was really something special. Unlike, my classmates who can be totally cheesy. I mean, “Love means never having to watch football. Now give me your all, my Jamal.” Ugh.)
I learned a lot about myself and the kind of relationship I want. For example, I want my guy to watch Gossip Girl with me but I don’t want him to talk during it. I want him to take me to concerts but I don’t want him singing in my ear. Of course, I can sing. In fact, the performer might even ask me to come on stage with him or her. One never knows. Things like that just happen to me.