More thoughts...

I've been thinking of writing a book about the everyday struggles of renal failure, dialysis, and transplantion... I wonder if I can get a few other patients at centers in Memphis to tell me what they've gone through. I wonder if it'll be something that people are interested in...

My mom told me to stop being mean. So I quit!

Everyone seems to be in love with strippers these days... maybe I should become one! Hey, I'm like LL... I need love!

The GRE is getting to me... is anyone smart enough to take it for me?? I know... I'm being lazy but this whole situation makes me realize how much I hate math! I'm going to school to get a PhD in linguistics... what the hell does math have to do with that?!

People at my dialysis center have been trying to get me to date another patient's son. He's 19... I'm 26... can someone please explain that to me cause I don't see it happening... EVER!

Whoever said life is like a box of chocolates should be chained up and whipped! I don't even like chocolate and I can tell you that my life is damn sure NOT like a box of chocolates! With chocolates, everything is sweet and the flavors complement one another, even the dark and the bittersweet chocolates... like the dark chocolate with the raspberry filling, or the bittersweet with the buttercream. At the moment, my I think my chocolate box is empty... I wonder who stole the chocolates cause believe me I didn't eat them. I don't even like chocolate. Maybe my life can be like a bowl of cherries... or a parfait. As donkey said on Shrek, "Everybody likes parfait!"

Yes, Shakira, hips do lie, especially when you're a dialysis patient!

Why are young men with money arrogant and conceited? One guy asked me why I thought I was worthy to visit his "palace" (his word exactly)... What in the hell?! You asked for my number! Why did I do that again? So, I pretended to lose his...

My parents want me to try holisitic medicines to see if it will help with my kidney failure and hep C... I wonder if they decide to have a priest lay hands on me will that count? It'll be like Jim Baker back in the day (do you remember him?)... I wonder if they can rebuke my illnesses in the name of God... can he do that from jail? (note: I am kidding!)

My allergist's impression of my dermatologist was spot on! He looked at my arm for three seconds, told me that I have breakouts for no reason and wrote me a prescription... It was funny when he did the impression... then I thought about how pissed I was after seeing the dermatologist and stopped laughing. It wasn't funny when it happened!

I finally realized that I want to have kids and get married (somewhere some overly feminist group's hearts are collectively breaking... I can hear the weeping). My friends all told me they knew I was lying when I told them that... the funny thing is that I wasn't!

Only God knows what type of man can handle me... cause I sure don't!

I wonder if I'll make a decent college professor? I want to be like my professors, hard as hell and at times unforgiving but they made you feel as if you just climbed to the summit of Mount Everest once you've completed the classes.

I wonder how being a college professor will affect my kids, if I am so lucky to have any?

If I can't have children, then I'll adopt... I think it would be cool to have a multicultural family. Actually I had decided to do that when I was younger (before I became a feminist). I remember telling my parents... my dad looked at me like I was crazy... Hey, maybe I am!

Since I can't drink, I wonder if I can smoke... and I am not talking about cigarettes. Some days I feel like the only thing that'll calm me down is a little ganja... I wonder if that rastafarian guy will hook me up...

Ah... Spain... I will have a summer home there if it kills me! At the rate I'm going it just might!

I wonder if my family members will come visit... My granny already told me she'll be damned if she eats any more paella. Damn fish eyes! Oh... I have to tell that story: My granny came to visit me while I was studying in Spain. We were so excited. I had all of this stuff planned for us to do. I knew all of the restaurants that we would go to so she could eat real Spanish food. You know, paella, tapas, jamon serrano con queso manchego, cod in almost every form imaginable (hey I was in Sevilla and its on a major river)! Her first night was uneventful because she was tired. So on the second or third night I took her to this great place for paella with two of my friends. We were so excited because we knew she would enjoy it. I, of course, forgot that we are from the South... and though raised farms, there are some things that black people will not eat! So we ordered the paella (seafood of course because of location) and some great wine. My grandmother ate around the clams and mussels and decided that she would try to shrimp. She took a bite and stoppped. And she looked straight at me and put her fork down. She picked up her napkin and wiped her mouth and just sat there and looked at me for a moment. Then she said: "I think I just ate a fish eye," in the calmest, softest, matter of fact voice I have ever heard. I choked and I looked at me friends. One of them gave her something to drink. And I cried laughing. She was pissed! She still won't let me live that down. That was the first story she told everyone when she got back to the states. It was hilarious! Sometimes she'll look at me and say "damn paella!" We die laughing! I love my granny... damn paella!

Man, I would have loved to be a Bond girl for Sean Connery. He's my favorite Bond... I'll keep the rest of my thoughts about that to myself! Anyway, it's late and I have the dialysis dinosaur in the morning! Arrrgghhh.......... (that was more of a pirate call, huh... oh well!)