First things first...my apartment got shot into. Well, not my apartment per se..but my apartment complex. Living in a city. Scary. I am ok for all you out there who care..yes, I got only one phone call to check on me. Check out the story here. Isn't that picture scary..makes it look like I live in the slums..the eerie lighting. Really I guess no where is safe..no matter the area. Anyways, this all got me to thinking about something morbid that many single people..especially those who live alone..have no doubt thought of at one point. (If not prompted by the sex in the city episode where miranda is scared her cat is going to eat her). One friend went through these thoughts after she got sick..and I now contemplate this after my apartment is shot at. How many days would it take for someone to realize I was MIA? Really, I think it could go up 3-4 days. Scary, huh? I made a pack with one friend to do regular checks now, but I need to meet someone just so that if something happens to me I am found.

People..I can not cook cornbread. I have tried and tried. Today I went out and got all the ingredients..bought a cast iron skillet and for the love it still didn't work. I follow the recipe exactly as my mother instructs and still no luck. What is the deal! I opted to fry it on the second batch and it still didn't come out right. I suck at cooking cornbread. That will be my headline if I ever opt to do online date: I suck at baking cornbread but am willing to go to cracker barrel. I am like a dysfunctional southern woman. Shouldn't I have been born with the cornbread cooking gene? What happened? I will try again next week. I have decided that I am going to try at least once a week till I figure out what the heck I am doing wrong. (Note: we are not talking about cornbread from the jif box..although I have messed that up too).