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I sit here with a heavy heart as I type these words; my mind riddled with thoughts that have been long put off in the back of my mind out of fear, mainly. Fear I wouldn't understand. Fear I would not believe. Fear I would mock. I saw The Passion of the Christ this evening with Matt. Excellent film. A little more violent than I was expecting (for some reason), but I'm very glad I saw it. I don't know that I will ever see it again. I don't know that I have to. I feel dispicable for every bad thing I've ever done in my life. I feel terrible for the way people, myself included, laugh at the misfortune of others. Why do you think we do this to eachother?

I think I'm going to look seriously into becoming Catholic. I enjoy Mass. I want to do good for people. I want to be involved with the church as much as possible. Most of all though… most of all, I'm ready to get to know Him. For the first time in my life.

I am curled up under a fluffy down comforter, surrounded by my favourite pillows. I am in bed with you right this moment. Where does that put us? What level are we on now that we've shared such an intimate moment? I mean, you're with me when I pee sometimes. When I shower. When I cook. Don't tell Matt, he might get jealous.

Man, I love wireless. My laptop brings a whole new meaning to computing. By the way? I wasn't kidding about the pee thing. You're really with me when I tinkle. Sometimes.

Got back from Mass awhile ago. It was really nice, except for the little Russian boy behind me yapping non-stop and his mother hissing, “Shhh!” every three seconds. At some point, I figured mom would realize “Shhh!” wasn't going to work, but it never happened. I am now watching the O.C. with an ashy smudge on my forehead. The smell of pancakes permeates my apartment, as I am completely ravenous. For Lent, I've decided to eat a meal and a half a day. For lunch I had a yummy tuna salad sandwich. We're having pancakes tonight. I am starving. And I think they're done. I'm leaving now before I gnaw your arm off.

I have a feeling spring is just around the corner. We're finally graduating to the 40s for an average daily high. This makes me very very happy. Matt has been reading McGee and Stuckey's Bountiful Container so that we can get our gardening on probably within a few weeks. I have so many ideas of how we're going to transform our balcony into a gorgeous garden filled with delicious herbs and colorful flowers! I can't wait to get my grow on.

This weekend was a lot of fun. We ventured into the city last night and met up with a friend of mine I haven't seen since high school. We hit up Russian Tea Time and chowed on beef stroganoff, New York strip steak, and duck breast. After an incredible meal and a couple of hours of reminiscing, we walked all over downtown, and found ourselves at Harry Caray's. Unfortunately, this place was a mad house, so we ended up at Rock Bottom. A couple beers later, we were on our way home. Didn't want to miss the 12:40 train, so we took a cab to Union Station, snagged our train, and headed back out into suburbia. It was a really fun night, and I look forward to hooking up with my high school friend again soon.

What did you do?

Big stuff in the news regarding the legalization of same-sex marriages in San Francisco (at least until it goes to court)!

Matt and I were talking about it tonight over pizza. We thought government should really analyze what marriage means, exactly. Do you think many couples, gay or straight, would get married if the government decided to do away with benefits for married folk? Marriage itself started out based on religious tradition, and now it's turned into a benefit base for many people. What do you think?

I came across a pretty interesting story while going through my news feeds tonight. Dudley Hiibel is a 59-year-old cowboy that owns a small ranch in Nevada. He keeps to himself, doesn't cause any problems, and happens to be quite knowledgeable when it comes to the Constitution that is supposed to uphold the freedoms we assume ours.

The story goes something like this: Mr. Hiibel was smoking a cigarette, pulled off to the side of the road, minding his own business. Suddenly, a cop comes screeching up, lights and sirens ablaze. The deputy asks Mr. Hiibel for a form of ID. Hiibel was smart, knowing full well one doesn't have to produce anything unless you are being detained. This was not the case, however. In fact, the police gave no reason as to why Hiibel was even being questioned. When the deputy was asked what he was investigating, his reply was, “I am investigating an investigation.” The long and the short of it is that Hiibel was arrested, his daughter dragged out of the pickup passenger seat, and pinned to the ground. The charge, you wonder?

Delaying a police officer, and a $250 fine for not producing an ID when asked.

Wanna see? It's all on video. Make up your own mind. This case has gone all the way to the Supreme Court, mind you. The Supreme Court will decide the fate of our Constitution on March 22nd. I just hope they remember something called the fourth amendment.

If you want more information about the Hiibel case, check out papersplease.org.

Sheck here is from Colorado, and he's got a business proposal for you. He has a system in which he would like you and five others to make whoopee, have his children, then have your kids at the age of 18, sleep with a mate of his choice. It's his big plan to create the perfect family, apparently. He's got it all drawn up - you can live with him, be common-law married to him, hell - he'll even pay for you to pop one out! Sound like a deal? There are some fine pictures of him, too. See him at work! See him at play! He even likes ballet.

If you're interested in reading more about his plan and other idiosyncracies about him, you can check him out here.

Remember Atari? Asteroids? Pacman? I was ten or eleven and I couldn't live without those games. I thought they were all dead, until I came across this site. Go on. Play on, bruvahs and sistas. Relive the dream!

I read an article tonight that made me chuckle. I think the whole idea behind scholarships handed out based on the colour of your skin is ridiculous. White, black, grey, red - why should one receive free money because of something you had no control over? I've heard people carry on about how they are proud to be black. Or Irish. Call me ignorant, but I don't understand. I don't understand how one can be proud of something that didn't even happen to them. So you're black and angry because your great great great grandmother was hung from a tree by that son of a bitch white man. Was it wrong? Yup. Definitely wrong. But I didn't do it. And you have nothing to be angry about because it didn't happen to you. There is a girl at work I know who constantly talks about “being Italian.” She is Italian - 0.0001% Italian. But she lives and breathes Italian. In fact, she defines herself by being such. Why? No idea. But a lot of people do it. Just like there are scholarships that can give you $4,000 if you're a Puerto Rican she-male that lived in Italy for at least two years. Go fig.

Hey. I can't feel half my face. Had a little dental work done. It was cake. I was nervous for nothing. But the fact still remains, I'm drooling, half my tongue feels like a solid brick, and my back wisdom teeth feel like they're pressing way too hard into my skull, even though that's not possible. Oh, by the way? I haven't been to the dentist in twelve years since last week, and still no cavities. Must be all the good moo I drank as a kid.

So, you guys got plans for the big V-day tomorrow? Matt has something planned, but he's not telling me what. Silly boy. All I know is, he was trying to get reservations somewhere. God, I'm so lucky. I have the most perfect boyfriend ever.

That being said, I'm going to go watch Judge Judy or something. And continue to not feel half my face.