a bill

I watch Susan Boyle's audition on Britain's Got Talent over and over so I can cry.

I love it. The feeling I get from watching this frumpy old woman sing in such a way that I finally understand why standing ovations have been defined is simply sublime. Her face, her body, her everything is so awkward until she gives herself the permission to bellow. A permission that I am still shaking hands with.

I think I like this sweet nineteen year old hippie. He is beautiful. He is fun. And of course I can't look him in the eyes. Every time I even try I dart my eyes so far away I'm scared they are going to get stuck behind my eyeballs. Goodness, I feel like the nineteen year old. We have hung out the past two nights and tonight I could not tell if he was hinting to hang out or not, but I needed a night on my own...

He read to me last night as I fell asleep in his bed. That is as far as we got. I am the ultimate sex freak turned ultimate prude. I love it. It's amazing how much my mood can change my character. I would feel bad for anyone who does not understand that about me, but at the same time I hope it at least entertains them.

My mom told the waiters they could not drink at Indika anymore because they have the sloppy tendency to booze themselves up silly! Of course, they were angry. My mom said that any alcoholic beverage that goes out means a ticket must be printed. Of course, they were even angrier. - Not to mention, that any of them even has the respect to think about who actually pays for their silly habits. - I order a glass of wine. And voila - I got a bill at my own restaurant.

I got a bill at my own restaurant.

The shock of seeing a bill in front of me took twelve hours to truly sink in. I feel like i finally understand what shock truly means.I finally get it.