Whip Out the Mascara

There's a pageant coming up. I'm really excited. I haven't participated in a while. The theme of this one is Dreamgirls...which means big hair, long lashes, gowns, razzle dazzle. I love the razzle dazzle. I'm in a new house. A house is the name of which you're representing, kind of like a model that's signed to an agency. That model's representing IMG or Elite or whatever. My last house wasn't a good fit for me and I think this one is good. We'll see.

We're in phase one. Thinking of dress ideas, hair, makeup, and possibly a production.There's a lot that goes into it...which is why sometimes at the last minute, I just say...fuck it.

We'll see........< Afroman and I spoke via aim last night. Thank goodness for sidekicks.
He's a bill collector. I think that's so funny. He's sarcastic as hell, but he never argues or raises his voices, which is a good temperment for that job. I told him if he sees my name to cross it off....walk on by....he said he would definitely be calling. We talked about other mind stimulating things, like Nas gearing up to debate Bill O'reilly, Bill Mahr saying to the Muslim Mos Def that Islam is the root behind terrorism, and me trying to guilt trip him into moving back downstate.
I love Afroman because no matter what we do romantically, we can roll over and have an adult conversation. He's pretty much the only man in my life that doesn't care about lip gloss and hair. Plus, he knew me way before I started competing in pageants, so he expects me to be about more than that.

I'm sleepy as usual and staring at an 8-hr day ahead of me.

Good luck. Godspeed.