Sunday, November 22, 2009

So apparently its all a crock of shit...

She said, and only she said from hence forth because that's way it should be...

This blog was originally started as the intro describes... "A rare social experiment..." blah, blah, bullshit. Now I've decided to morph it into an outlet for myself, keep the original intro for laughs, and just blog about random shit because that's what a Taylor does best... bullshit.

Robin, you are included in this group of Taylor bullshitters FYI. You're family tried and true. So sorry. Take another shot of Kettle, it numbs the pain.

My brother is actually the literary genius in our family, I read his blog with a pair of Depends on. I don't intend to use this as a online journal that my mother can look through my underwear drawer and under my mattress, find, and read without guilt, but rather a "who know what the fuck will fly out of Rachael's mind" outlet for myself. I liked blogging before but the pretense that it was started on was all wrong, in so many ways.

Honestly... who blogs about shit like waiting for 30 days to have sex and all of the sexual tension that accompanies it? I was caught up in the moment, met a nice sweet guy, someone that I really thought in the moments of drunken passion on a first date would want to commit a month of his life to the likes of me. Props to him for identifying the madness and bringing it to the table early, hence why the blog met its maker early on... too much pressure, way too much pressure and scrutiny to be able to focus on the other more than what was blogged about or not. Retarded idea. Next time I won't tell the sorry bloke. Better idea for sure.

You see, living in LA you never get bored. With that endless influx of action comes an equal and opposite reaction... you never have the chance to be bored. When bored, you think. With this thought you tend to scrutinize your life, surroundings, future, etc and it gives you insight and personal reflection that you can't achieve when you are surrounded by fake tits, rush hour traffic, waiters/actors and a commune of people more concerned as to how their hair looks at the grocery store than how many African lives that 5 karat diamond on their finger cost... but I digress.
With insight and personal reflection comes the ability to identify issues that are bothering you and causing you personal turmoil.

And so my dedicated readers, all 4 of you, I venture out of my hectic surroundings nicknamed "Los Angeles" and into a dark movie theatre to watch "New Moon" by myself. Not because I can't find another romance starved 20 something to go with me, but rather because I can do it on my own terms. Its a date night with myself. Dinner, drinks, movie and if I play my cards right I may even get lucky with myself tonight. Yeah, you read that right I masturbate. Like a fiend.

OH! This weekend has been quite eventful by the way, after 3 Makers on a date with myself I almost forgot... Just to show all 4 of my faithful readers that I'm not some 29 year old, single hag I will tell you my past happenings... I spent the weekend with a man. A real man, a really sexy man. A man I am spending Thanksgiving and the following weekend in Mexico with and who I will continue to fall head over heals for, because that's my style. I love love and I love falling in love. Staying in love is another matter - he has issues, I have issues, but maybe, just maybe if the relationship Gods choose to shine their light on us, we will make it to Thanksgiving.

And I didn't make him wait a month... but that's for my next blog.