Sometimes I Get A Good Feelin'.

...And then again sometimes I don't.

For the first time today I looked up the word Masochist.

mas·och·ist

[mas-uh-kist]

1.

Psychiatry . a person who has masochism,  the condition in which sexual or other gratification depends on one's suffering physical pain or humiliation.

2.

a person who is gratified by pain, degradation, etc., that is self-imposed or imposed by others.

3.

a person who finds pleasure in self-denial, submissiveness, etc.

This is very alarming to me because truth be told, I relate with all three related definition of this word. On a very, very small positive note, to my relief I have indeed been using this word correctly and in the right context. Point Alisha!

I realized this though tonight, as I sit at home alone I ran though all the things I could possibly do for fun alone. First thing that came to mind, smoking. Just one on the porch to enjoy the last evenings of the summer. Then came the idea to drink and smoke. Then drink, smoke and write. Oh! The wild animal I have become. All of those aspersions were quickly squashed when I realized that I would not be stopping to buy cigarettes and I had no shesha at home to fill my hookah. And my half bottle of three day old chardonnay wasn't going to do the trick alone. So I settled for the half pint of Haagen Dazs Swiss Vanilla Almond Ice Cream and the company of my dog.  After I finished my ice cream and the self loathing set in, I decided to visit the Internet to get caught up on things I give no shits about. I find women that are better shape then me and the look around at things I can't afford. If I am feeling like having a real wild night I might poke around my boyfriends ex-girlfriends Facebook to try and get my fix. Fix of what?!?!?!?! Who the fuck does that?!?!?! (everyone I am suspecting)

I will be forced to direct you to the word and definition following at the top of the page. That is what I am. A masochist. Things aren't good, unless they are bad. That is how that definition should read. 

With all that said I realized what a little baby bitch I sound like. And I don't like to sound like one of those. I will get a good feeling again, and hold on to that son of a bitch as if it had every last ounce of my will to live. I will party more, bitch less, be even more awesome, have more sex, not gain weight, show more cleavage, travel, be a good girlfriend, finish my laundry and be someone you would like to meet.
                                                     I hope you are as excited as I am.