My dad is a "master ironer" and was called in by my aunt to assist me. As I watched my dad patiently iron my dress shirt, I realized how great of a husband he probably was or at least what a great catch he must have been. He's been in various occupations so he knows how to cook, clean, iron, sew, etc. Moreover, he likes to keep in shape and he's pretty decent looking, even for an old geezer.

And I would like to say that I hope to find someone like him, someone that has all these qualities, but I rather not. Of course, it would be nice to find someone who's as capable as my dad, but there's one quality that I love about him: his patience to deal with my crazy. Out of everyone, he's the only one who really knows how moody I truly am. He's seen me at my worst: my immaturity, my anger, my pettiness, my selfishness, and my hate. Yet, he still loves me. He could have ditched me; yet, he's still around (maybe not around a whole lot but nonetheless around).

So, please, stick it out with me. Don't let my atrocious personality keep you from sticking it out with me. I promise once I'm comfortable and secure, I'll be worthwhile. (I'm probably talking to a brick wall here.)

And I'm pretty sure I just saw two Asians about to get their freak on. Too bad they decided that a third Asian watching was too much and closed the blinds. Insert sad face.

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Bonne Nuit

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Even though, I think you're a promiscuous dickhead whose gonads should be ripped out...I still wish, foolishly, that I was where you are.

God. Being a girl means all kinds of stupid.