tavie.com

I am trying to work up the courage to call a therapist.

I actually don't have any referrals or anything. I may just pick one out of the phone book. Well, not the phone book. Maybe a search engine. Long as it's a woman and accepts my medical insurance.

What makes me think I can talk to a therapist when I never have been able to before?

Well, but why should that stop me? I can't very well spend the rest of my life tossing and turning and hating myself whenever my mind gets an idle minute, can I?

So, anyway, that's the current internal struggle.

Elsewise...

Thailand and Texas, return my bloggers to me.

Cheryl's niece is so cute. You should meet her. I wish I had a niece. I want to be someone's wacky Aunt Tavie. Oh, Lady Thug and I also watched The Osbournes and spotted Little Wood. I like the punky daughter. She's cute.

TO Steph has nine toes and no sense of smell! I have ten toes and no sense of smell. And we both love musicals. Soul sister.

Other soul sister.

Speaking of soul sisters, must get that birthday present already. Does anyone know how to say "Happy Birthday" in Swedish?

Speaking of soul sisters again, someone needs to blog.

Still haven't emailed Jess. What the fuck kind of friend am I?

Now babies, don't you panic.
By the light of the night it will all feel all right.

This is in my head currently. Not the whole song. Just those two lines.

My twinner and I watched half of Boogie Nights and then she got tired and went to bed. The question: did she go to her bed, or my bed? I sleep on the bottom bunk, you see, and sometimes she's too ~~lazy~~ tired to climb up to her own bed.

We shall see.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:47 AM | shower me with attention