Due to the death of my beloved pet, rather crap health and relationship turbulance, I did just what any pseudo-self-loathing lass like myself would do today: spend the day with my mother in a card shop, pharmacy/grocery store and a friendly neighbourhood Starbucks. Along with the estimated 37.5 minutes spent en route to said destinations in the automobile.

I really don’t know what in fresh hell came over me.

However, I am very thankful that we spent some time together. She’s been glued to Ebay, and me to my fiance, so our friendship has been going down the toilet, to say the least.

We wound up reading sappy “The Lord is My Shepherd, Your Ass is Grass, Amen Wee Grasshopper” bookmarks.

It was a good day.

Some of us are horrible…at realising just how good we’ve got it, until the potential of losing ‘it’ arises. Then we kiss the ground.

Such is life.

As per my revolving platter of weekly obsessions, tonight’s dish is this:

“Serious Relationships, or: Does the Milk Go Sour When the Cow is Purchased?”

You see, I’m a free-spirit who is involved in a somewhat confining serious relationship. While I love my fiance’ with all of my being, we have extremely different tastes in interests and activities.

I, a self-proclaimed Andy Warhol-George-Carlin-philosophy-sociology-Manic Street Preachers-loving, veal piccata eating individualist, am engaged to a goddamned raver who is void of culture outside of Taco Bell, DJ Dan and Adidas. I ph34r him.

No, actually, I’ve had quite a time. I’ve taught him of Sylvia Plath, Plato and Norman Mailer. I’m proud to have extended knowledge of such personalities, but hot damn, I do miss my days of learning! My personal epiphanies! Where have you gone? We hardly knew ye! My days of wandering around museums from 10am to 5pm. The trips to no-man’s land to observe mother nature. Holy hell.

I miss being selfish, in a way. Whereas, I am a most giving person and couldn’t bear keeping myself to myself, I think today will be a creme brulee and Museum of TV & Radio day.

Live for today, all of you. Regrets are like a chicken coop ladder. Short & shitty. Or does that beloved adage go “Life is like a chick..”….nevermind.

I’m just fucking chuffed to be writing here, so hello to all of you reading. I’m Sid. I’m female. I don’t want any confusion between any of us just yet.

I’m engaged now, so those of you who sent in pictures of your manmeat in the past: please stop all submissions. My fiance’ is very jealous and often wonders if his member is enough for me. As it is, he is reading this over my shoulder and balking. His balls are on my shoulder.

Ahem.

Welcome to the new Online Epiphany. I was a huge fan back in the day of Ryan running it as a one-man show and now that I’m staff, I’m absolutely wetting myself.

Thank you. Here’s to hoping you enjoy our textual perversions, insights and lunchmeat.