I don’t know what is going on with me lately, but I feel totally choked in a writing sense. I have absolutely nothing to blog, I cannot write a single word in any of my projects I have open, I feel completely and totally stifled. I go through periods where I “lose my voice” so to speak, but usually I get over it or find a new forum. Neither of those things are happening now.

Part of me has something to say, but I feel like I cannot say it. I don’t know what the problem is, but I feel, literally, like I am choking on my words.

I must put an end to the inappropriate conversations I have with my grandmother. I just hung up from a conversation with her, in which she talked about and said the word “vagina” repeatedly. About 40 times in 3 sentences. It was vagina-tastic, lemme tell ya. I could have lived a lifetime without hearing that particular string uttered.

Then, she proceeded to tell me about my grandpa in the sack.

I love my apartment. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. But sometimes, apartment living isn’t all its cracked up to be. For starters, there’s the noise. I live on the ground floor and the people that live in the apartment above me are the loudest humans ever. All hours of the day and night their children can be heard running back and forth and back and forth until I want to pull my hair out.

Then, there’s the weird smells. The hallway on my floor always has a really strange aroma to it. The people in #3 are chain smokers. Between the two of them, they must smoke about 6 packs a day. Apparently, that is too much smoke in one enclosed space for even them, so they will open the patio doors and then prop open the front door to the apartment to create a breeze. All it really does is push the smoke into the common hallways. Apartment #4, the people I have dubbed the O’Smellys, eats quite a bit of goat and lamb. If you’ve ever smelled one or the other being cooked, you will always remember the smell. Combine that with an over-abundance of garlic and that is the distinctive stench that is #4.

Mix the smoke from #3 with the stench from #4 and my very queasy stomach jumps up into my throat when I step into my hallway. I love my apartment, but my neighbors stink.

My title as the Whitest White Girl There Ever WasT has once again been upheld. I went to the pool with my sister today, wearing 75SPF sunblock. I am now a lovely tomato-y shade of red. WTF? 75SPF! And still I am scorched.

Sheesh.

Perhaps I am part albino or something. Albino or vampire. Vampire would be cooler, I suppose.