"Bitches Be Loco."

I'm finding it rather difficult to find things to say to you... know what that means? YUP. It's probably time for another break, starting Monday or Tuesday. Nothing is set in stone just yet, relax. And I don't care if the last one was only a few weeks ago- who runs this site: ME or YOU? That's what I thought.

Anyway, back to what I wanted to say.

I gots me a nasty case of the blogger's block, because the things that are running through my head right now are not things I want to share with you (SORRY!) and it's hard to concentrate on... wait, where was I going with this? Right. Estoy stuck.

This must be what journalists feel like in Cuba n shit. You have so much to pour out onto the page but the regulators, in my case, The Voices, are like, "Go ahead and step outta line and see what happens." I dare not find out, I tell you. DARE. NOT.

There's a roaring something inside me. A combination of worries and excitement and anticipation and impatience that manifests itself in very weird dreams and even weirder realities.

Like, I'm working again but playing "Catch Up To The Bills" is taking longer than I thought. My landlord can only take so much before he shows me the door. And Mami found my Uncle Julio in Indiana but the floodgate of issues and emotions that it brought up is probably more than we bargained for. And I've come to terms with what I want for me and my family and my future and it's scary as fuck to think that it may not all come true. That maybe I waited too long (for more babies, a writing career, etc.) and will now have to settle for a mediocre existence.

(Now I know my male readers don't want to know this but...) On Saturday night my period snuck up on me like a thief in the night with barely any symptoms to announce itself the way it usually does. I didn't snap on anybody, I didn't eat the entire house and most importantly, I didn't cry.

But it did put a halt on this euphoric haze I've been living in and force me to sit. still.

It occurred to me that I was too crazed and frazzled and swept away and caught up to have a minute of hormonal tears, and perhaps I really needed them. They cleanse me; clear my head of shit I need to get rid of and gosh-darnit it just feels good to cry sometimes.

So after an amazing night of great live music (Marsha Ambrosious KILLED IT at SOBs last night), I re-watched the season finale of Brothers & Sisters and cried. I cried for Robert (Rob Lowe) and Kitty (Calista Flockhart) and Uncle Saul (Ron Rifkin), and maybe even a little bit for Holly (Patricia Wettig) and then took a moment to cry for me and the things I want and will never have, the things I thought I didn't want and threw away and the ones I wanted and got.

Yeah, it felt good.

*smooches...thinking maybe I'm not as blocked as I thought*
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you know Lady Estrogen- always being dramat... uh oh. she saw me write that. ABORT MISSION. I REPEAT, ABORT MISSION!!!! *runs away*