Oooooh, yes!

I am good......soooo gooooood. It took me long enough to have this great brain orgasm, but I finally figured out how to get my image back on my pages. By golly, he didn't take down my image....it was just moved to another server. I love ya Mr. Cutie, for not throwing it out!

It's friday night and I could have had dinner at Versailes and a night dancing away at this techno dance club in Century City. Instead, I opted to stay home. I wanted a night to myself after a hard day's work and lack of sleep the night before. I wanted to just come home from work and eat a nice dinner.

I made quiche the other night.

Yes, I've been cooking alot more these days. It's sorta nice. I come home from work and all I want is to slip into a comfortable man's shirt. Just the man's shirt and nothing else at all.....not even panties or a bra. That's what I call pure comfort.

I then, turn on the tv to watch my nightly ritual of HBO shows as I cook some dinnner. I walk around with my man's shirt and fuzzy, white thong slippers.

I like watching "Sex and the City." Awesome show. I can totally relate and understand the women on there. God, I love that show.

I love living on my own.

I love my cute, little shower.

I love my cute, little kitchen.

I love how I have a fireplace.

I love how I have central a/c.

I love having a permanent subterranean parking space.

I love being able to buzz someone into the building.

I love going to the bathroom and not having to shut the door, because afterall, it is only I who lives here.

I love how men admire that I have my own place and my own hardware tools. Yes, I have a toolbox, a power drill, a saw, and a huge wrench.

I love having the power of men calling and I turning them down for a date, knowing they'll call again.

I love being a bitch to them and knowing they love it.

But most of all, I love having control over my life, being able to speak my mind and be frank as I must, for it shocks people what comes out of my mouth at times.

Here's an example:

Last night, a young gentleman I'd been dating called me and I blurted out in a matter-of-fact tone, "Do you want to have sex?" I blurted it out in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to connect to what we were conversing about. He hesitates as if he's shocked and stutters out a confused, shy, "Yeah, I would." I laugh. He laughs. He asks in an unsure tone, "Really?" I laugh and say, "yes," He says in an excited tone, "Ok, so I can come over now?" "No, I'm kidding, you many not come over. I am not that sort of girl," I say. I am cruel. Cruel, cruel, cruel!

Those are my brain orgasms.