I love you, stranger

It amazes me how easily I can throw the L-word around—I say it when I’m incredibly thankful, I say it when the weather’s nice, I say it when I’m supposed to say it back. This just shows that I barely understood M. Scott Peck’s 30-or-so-page discussion on “lurve.” Remember Peck? He wrote the long long second chapter of the Blue Theology book, the so-called Th131 rite of passage. I think I’m testament to the fact that you can pass the second theology course without taking in anything that the famous Peck said. The one section that I vividly remember was his note that you can’t really love pets, where my professor, in turn, revealed to us that he tongues his… what was that? His pet parrot?

As much as I love (see? There’s that word again!) my Th131 professor, I won’t waste Internet space and bandwith talking about him and his gazillion pets. Sorry sir, maybe next time. This entry is solely dedicated to my lack of comprehension for something we all need, lurve!.


Oh Sasha! How stupid you are! How can you expect to talk about something that you barely know anything about? It’s like a cat teaching fish how to swim. Haha. Just a question though, do you think me taking rhymes-with-fluv* for granted will one day hit me in the face?


Oh wait, it already did. No matter, just because I’m not exactly sure what it is (stupid girl, they explained that in Kindergarten!), doesn’t mean I don’t have any of it. I have lots and lots to give which is why Christmas leaves me bankrupt.


*Fluv is my word for the month. It’s defined as “word that rhymes with love.”

-Entry brought to you by sheer boredom in the workplace


I’ve been having the weirdest dreams lately. Last night, I dreamed that Jason gave me two U.S. cents for Christmas. What could two cents possible mean? It’s an idiom for sharing an opinion… does that mean Jason’s going to be opinionated for Christmas? Doesn’t make sense at all.

My dream warped into me lying on an unfamiliar beach with the Niles’. I can’t remember exactly how it went but I remember that there were plastic knives and forks involved, oh and red straws. Suddenly, all the water from the ocean was drained and I was there standing on a TILED ocean floor. 😐

Maybe I need a dream interpreter. Or maybe sleeping at 9 PM produces incomprehensible dreams.


Why do I always look like a boy when I’m beside Jason? Could it be his girlish charms? Hahaha KIDDING!!! 😀 Peace you! Maybe it’s my boy-next-door aura hahaha.

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