what a chocolately predicament

It is a well-known fact that women enjoy their chocolate, yet it is even more notorius that I LOVE chocolate. And i come by that honestly. It is no fault of my own that my mother loves nothing better (thats a bit extreme, but you get the picture) then chocolate with chocolate, and being her daughter, the genes were naturally passed down the line to me. Now it is my weakness, i can not say no to chocolate . . . especially FREE chocolate.
So when a chocolate fondue fountain is placed infront of me with numurous choices for a dipping object, rejection is the last thing on my mind, even if i had recently been unable to finish off my dinner of crab legs, baked potatoes and steak (one of my favourites).
It id unfair to use my weakness against me. I was doing such an amazing job of maintaining a suitable weight (even with the grease they called cafeteria food forced down my throat twice a day for 4 months) until that happened. In just a short amount of time there is not a doubt in my mind that i gained atleast 5 pounds.
The moral of this little tale . . . it is cruel to trap an innocent girl with such a temptation especially when her deep desire is well known to all those she comes in contact with.

-i believe chocolate is the answer-

In bed, exausted, bored yet not interested in sleep

Here i am, its nearly time to wake up, yet i still feel a deep desire to stay in this conscious, yet not so exciting state. I had a not so exciting day, cleaning, resting, playing with my new iPod . . . definitely something that will end up controlling and taking over many free hours of my days. It's not like i usually did anything productive with my days anyways. most of them are usually spent on Dante (my computer) anyways . . . which is partailly why i decided to get a blog. Typing is so much easier and faster then writing . . .
. . . why is that writing helps me vent? Even while i type there are a milion things going through my mind, there is no way i can capture all that on paper (or in this case the screen) it is rather impossible and kinda depressing . . . jsut think of all those wonderful thoughts and idea that get away due to my impotent typing skills . . .
my eyes are trying to tell me something in morse code i think . . all the blinking going on . . . if only i had a mirror i could perhaps distinguish the entire message. But i think the just of is their grave desire for sleep . . . i will contnue this new adventure of 'blogging' another day.
Audios amigos!