In the year 2002 I awoke the day after St. Patrick's in a single bed, next to a beautiful Irish lad. Oh... yeah, we were in a Catholic Nunnery. Long story. But really, how can you top that?

And yes, I know I'm going to hell. Been on my way longer than the nunnery incident.

My company is going to do exactly what I said. Make me do all the work for the next 6 months and not replace my boss but also not give me a raise or the job.

Ridiculous. But not as ridiculous as me actually putting up with it. I'm going to ask for more money when I see the VP next week.

Denver was good. A lot of work. My feet were so sore all day. 16 hours of constant presentations. And also making grown European men stay on a schedule. Very difficult. Especially the French!

I met a boy. I should say man at one of the tastings. He was sweet. And cute. And geographically undesirable. Just my type. We exchanged numbers. Who knows.

My ex boyfriend from college called on Friday, wasted. It was a long conversation but the jist was he doesn't want to get married to his girlfriend of 6 years. He misses me. Everything he has done (the house, dog) has been for me. I thought it would make me happy that my ex is still pining over me. I wanted to vomit. While he said over and over how much he loved me, his girlfriend slept upstairs in their huge house.

But because he is a coward he will marry her in September. While he was telling me all this I wouldn't say anything but, "We broke up 8 years ago." "We were young." "Things change."

Man, I fucked him up. I don't feel very good about myself.

And that's my life.