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Last night's dreams were really weird. I won't give details about most of it but the one thing I will tell is that I was dating a Mexican. Not that that is bad, but he broke up with me. Yeah, HE broke up with me. I think it should have been the other way around. Just say'n.

Which reminds me. When I was growing up we always got a call from a Hispanic guy name Jose (I think that was his name). He would call and ask for a "Lori". Well considering I was a 10 year old girl, my parents didn't think it was for me and come to find out, he had the wrong number. But he still called all the time. My mom always joked that I was dating Jose Consuela Rodriguez III. Maybe this was his way of finally letting me go.