Raising the White Flag

So there's a distinct possibility that in my neurotic freak-out, I may have overreacted a tad. Yeah, I know, me over-dramatizing things. I'm as shocked as you are. To be honest with you, it looks like Mama Feist and I have gotten everything we needed to say out in the open. Or at the very least, we've gotten what we needed to say out there. Granted, there's definitely still more I need to tell her about myself. Who I am, the people I've met, where I'm going with my life. But to be perfectly honest with you, there's still a lot about myself that I don't know. I have some soul searching to do.

To be honest with you, I've been thinking of grabbing my car and touring the states, as some sort of Cross-Country Pajibacon tour. Mind you, this idea works better in theory as it does in practice, as something like this would require more dough than an industrial-size bakery. Considering the fact that my funds are nowhere near up to snuff for something like this, I don't think it'll be happening. Still, it's a nice thought, and if anyone has any idea how to make it happen, feel free to drop me a line.

Anyways, self-important soul-searching aside, my home life is thankfully much better than previously determined. Sometimes a heaping plateful of freshly-baked cookies is a good way to mend a burnt-ass bridge. Granted, she's still not really diggin' my job too hard, but I think we're past the stage involving apologizing, anger or any other shit of that ilk, and being on the up is for shizz better than where we were before. We may not agree with each other right now, but the white flags are flying, and we seem to be at a ceasefire. Gotta take what you can get at this point.