I haven’t written a proper entry lately. I have no excuse.

Andy and I took out a 22′ sailboat on Friday to prepare him for the course this weekend. It was awesome. We actually went out of the bay into the open ocean a little. It was intimidating and intense and I can’t wait to do it again.

The class would be more fun for him if he wasn’t as sick as a dog, but even then, he says he’s enjoying it. I on the other hand locked myself out of the house today. But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I was going out to lunch with my mom anyway and it just added going to the yarn store and watching her dye her hair to my day while waiting for Capt’n Andy to return from sea.

I just realized why I haven’t written a proper entry lately. I’m even boring myself. I want car chases, gun running, illegal stuff that I get away with and am rewarded handsomely for. I want to be running backwards down the street with a machine gun in on arm spraying bullets at my pursuers with a bag of money in the other with the get away car screeching to a halt just inches from me so I can jump in.

I know, I know all of you out there that are flipping me off right now are completely justified. I don’t have a nine to five and I can pretty much do whatever I want whenever I want. I suck, I get that.

I guess, dear journal, what I’m feeling is a little unsettled. I’ve become accustomed to the gypsy lifestyle and like it, but lately, I’m yearning for a little bit more solid of an outline. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying much of one, but a hint of a smoky shape would be nice.

I thought this upcoming baseball season (April-October)was set in stone, or at least some reasonably sturdy plaster product that although not dry, was on it’s way. And maybe that plaster of paris future is still setting the way we thought. And maybe Andy’s entertaining of the idea of going back to Vegas will remain un-entertained.

All of these things are out of my control. For a list maker, go get ‘em, planner, doer type that I am, all this unsettling is….unsettling. I find myself a little drained and then I feel like a jack ball because, I’ve got nothing to be drained about. Seriously, I know how good I have it.

Cursis.

(yes….cursis. Show yourself grammar patrol!)