My head aches, my hands feel thick and impossible to move. I keep mis-typing.

I feel as if I'm going to throw up more for lack of anything else to do than because I'm actually sick, which is a very odd feeling indeed.

Alex is online... but the computer is being stubborn and refusing to send things. He wrote a letter, and I can't get it. *pouts*

I feel like shit-on-a-stick, I just read scotticus' latest entry and I'm worried about him but I can't afford to make long-distance phone calls any more than he can. *sighs* Maybe I'll text him.

Alex just rebooted and is trying to send the letter again... I hope it works.

I could really use some cheering up just now.

Coming Out to my parents... was intense. My mother kept insisting that all the unpleasant and bad things I remember, that they didn't happen, never happened, never could have happened... thank god for my father, who at least stood up for me a couple times and said 'hey wait, I remember x happening, I remember you mentioning y thing'. This made me feel a bit better.

Well, the letter has officially arrived... now if only hotmail will let me READ it... *grrs at hotmail, which is being and evil and vindictive bastard*

...and the world is roses. *grins*

Roses and violets and lilies-of-the-valley, curtains and fountains of roses, as the book says... there are doves nearby, and swans, and cranes, and exotic but soft-voiced birds everywhere, more roses... beautiful world.

All because of a letter.

*smiles* I love him for his silver tongue... I've a thing for men whose words leave me so breathless, so happy, so content.