every rose has its thorn...

If you all thought that I was going to be done with the "posting" just because I have "left the rear," they you all are crazy. This blog is so mad popular that the constant request for updates is really starting to affect me. Here's an update, are you happy now?

I'm not even in the rear, but, apparently, this does not deter anyone from harassing me about "updating the mad popular blog."

Some people say that I "use quotations where they are not necessary."

And?

Leaving the rear was sad yesterday; I certainly can't deny that. I thought I was going to cry when I turned the fireplace off, took my cassette out of the stereo, and took one last look around the place: slowly turning my head from side to side to commit every detail to memory; the gorgeous paintings of the rears, the little pieces of wood that Maryam was planning to use for some art project--but that are long forgotten now, making a trail from the living room to her bedroom, a trail that I follow every night, wondering why Maryam can't love me in the way that I love her, a trail of tears really--the Starburst wrappers, the DVD remote that is in serious need of batteries, the chair that I stole from my house (Maryam claims this chair "smells like a dog"), the skeleton man, the leopard print shoe chair...wow, the rear is truly the center of the universe.

Maryam and I talked last night while she was in the rear, and I was in Woodridge. Man, was that bittersweet.

I've tired of this post. Please check back often, I've promised you faithful readers that I intend to keep publishing daily, and, really, I intend to keep that intention.

Much love.

Rear style.

So bittersweet...