Sometimes, my computer in the newsroom sounds like it's going to blow up. Like right now. It's actually so hindering that I have a hard time hearing funeral directors I'm talking to on the phone. S'kinda like a rocket getting ready to lift off, which is fine by me. Go on, black clunky Dell, and take the obits with you, as well as my will to work tonight. Because that, already, is zilch.

I FINALLY got what I've been asking for for Christmas for six years now - a gift card to go get a massage at a local spa. Sounds bratty, right? Well, maybe it is a little bit, but god dammit, I just want 60 minutes to not think about ANYTHING.

And to have my back and feet rubbed, which I wish Tony would do and I bug him about it so much that he bought me a five dollar hand held massager thingy and it just isn't the same when I do it myself because I absorb a lot of vibration into the hand that's holding the massager thingy and it's very distracting. God.ILIVESUCHAHARDLIFE.

I think about where I was at this time last year and it's weird. At this time last year I was getting ready to move back to NEPA from Philly. I was still freelancing out the house and had nothing solid.

Now I work in a newsroom weekly and publish stories weekly, with the HUGE HOPES of going full-time in the near future. Like hopefully the first two months of 2011.

I turn 25 this year. TWENTY FIVE. Something else big has to happen, right?

amazing.

Right now I am speaking this blog out on my new phone, the droid x. How insane is that? It's like I don’t even need my laptop any more!

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