Wowzers, it's been a while since I posted on here. Just a couple updates, since MySpace has been turning me off lately. (Ads! Ads, everywhere! and friend requests from people that want to help me with my mortgage rate, make my penis larger/harder and girls borrowing their 'friends' account. NICE.)

This Saturday is the Creative Treehouse's Halloween party, so don't put away your costume. It's 3 dollars at the door if you're wearing a costume, 5 bucks if you're not -- but it's all to a good place and we'll have a blast whether you're dressed up or not. I'll have some artwork up and I've carved a zombie pumpkin to submit to their pumpkin carving contest. I want to do another one, but time will dictate whether he gets a victim -- er, friend.

Originally, I was going to be a wuzzle, specifically Bumblelion.
But then I realized it meant I had to a) get an orange unitard or b) get a yellow leotard, make stripes and just wear nothing on my arms and legs. It would take a braver gal than I to pull either of those form-fitters off, so I'm opting for the bee portion. I had high hopes for the creativity of that, but it's since gone downhill with, you guessed it, lack of time. There will be wings, there will be yellow, there will funny glasses and probably poofy pigtails. Beyond that, it's anybody's guess.

I actually wish I had the balls to pull off the silly stuff some ladies wear during Halloween. Yes, they're silly and slutty and whatever, but I think a lot of girls use the time as an excuse to feel sexy when they might not every other day of the year. I can't fault them for that. Besides, if you're wearing lingerie outside when it's 40 degrees, you're SOME kind of tough anyway.

November is National Novel Writing Month, if you're interested in writing that Great American Novel you know you're destined to create. I'm not participating according to the official rules of NaNoWrMo, but I am using the excuse and support of the thousands of people that are.

My heart is too big sometimes. Turmoil isn't fun, but I will admit it's at least great for writing. Nothing breeds creativity like a little inner discomfort. It means I'm writing a blog at fucking 1 am, however. But this too shall pass, I suppose.