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I don’t know if you could say I was born to be a bad ass. In fact, I can be a little reserved, and often strive to be a good, obedient, nice person.

And then I remembered I’m the M…J…

The one and only. When in doubt, take the more hazardous route.

Not always subtle, mistress of communication, bold.

Risk-taking. Mystery-seeking. Fun loving, if you can believe that.


Lover, poet, humanitarian.

And I did the most vulnerable thing a person desirous of being in a relationship can do.

I called the (potential?) object of my affections out on not calling me back.

Sure, I’m far away, but I’ve made plenty of efforts to stay in touch, and damn, am I worth it.

Plus it’s just the right thing to do.

It was in a nice hello email, but fairly clear quand meme.

So we’ll see.

O, and did I mention I signed it love.

Love as in close friends, lovers, intimact, caring, affection, nay, passion?

Do I <love> him?

Depends on what the meaning of is is.

But yeah, I really care.

Am I a little bit passive aggressive for throwing that in there, a little cowardly even since it’s not his native tongue, or just plain bold.

Devil may care (because God is with me)


innocnt, sweet, but not spineless.

and now he’ll know the real me, Megan.


A few days ago I talked to someone I once thought was the greatest thing since sliced bread.

I realized he was a selfish, vain, immature, but ultimately nice enough guy.

But not enough for me, not anymore.

We are friends. I learned a lot from him before he squandered my grand illusions from a distance affections.

On verra! I go to Paris one way or the other!

And I will judge him! And it will be good or bad or just plain indifference.

Because you know what, he is not the reason for my war or the object of my crusade, I am.

The face that has launched a thousand ships in my soul does not belong to him (tho let it be so that he’s along for the ride!)

No, I’m looking for a much more elusive bounty-

self, fulfillment, happiness.

Maybe I’m not even looking for anything.

Maybe I won’t find anything.

Maybe it’s all about having a good time,


The moment of revelation, when you wake up frim being drunk and know a litle too much about your waking life

And then.

Quite rarer,

The clear moment when you decide what to do about it.

And you’re off!


Paris, your fair Helen is coming!