Dear You,

You don't read this blog, thank the Heavens, but I will still say this: "Happy 41st Birthday." Sure it's not until the 27th, but really, enjoy.

RCL is someone who has been an inconsistant constant in my life for six years. I so adore him. He has seen me at my highest and has sadly had to endure my lowests. That said, I just love him. We had the perfect night the other eve. A dinner at my pal's restaraunt and then a most sublime concert, collectively serenaded by Robert Francis, my new favorite.

I really wanted to share him with you, because he's good, but maybe not quite good enough? He told me once that I possessed the "trump card." I questioned what that meant and he replied that it was my wit, charm and sense of humor, I had it all. Such a compliment, right? But alas, I still don't quite make the cut for this bloke. Attraction plays a big part in life and relationships and maybe that's where we, ahem, I fall short. Nevertheless, I so appreciate this man, about to be 41 years wise, for having dealt with and even enjoyed my silly company. If you know him, please don't tip him off to this post . . . if you don't, know that he is great. He helped me conquer heartache, even though he plows mine more than occasionally. He is a good soul. If only he would give himself a great gift this year . . . perhaps me? Or at least my companionship.

(weird post, eh)

Sorry, but this cyber template often doubles as my processing platform . . .