Excerpts from the Diary of a Diva

After many weeks of living in an imagined bliss with Mr. Wonderful, I have returned to my apartment. I'm only here to pack my things so I can be out by the end of the month. This is what I have to do, and I'm okay with it. I'm not okay with moving in with him on a permanent basis. Even though he asked me to move in, I can tell it's not something he really wants. He's only being nice, but I have no where else to go. And on top of that, he's losing his job. That means that he and I will be in the same unemployed boat. Because he's a true man, he'll do everything he can to help me -- even if it means sacrificing himself. I can't have that. I don't like feeling like a burden, and I don't want to be where I'm not really wanted. What shall I do...

I'm feeling some kinda way, but I can't put my finger on it. Michael Jackson is dead, and a part of my childhood died, too...but that's not it. He wasn't my cousin, and I'll get over it. I'm thinking of Granny more. She, too, was an integral part of my childhood -- my life, even -- and Michael's death makes Granny's just a little fresher. Plus, I recently had a conversation with my favorite uncle. I always love talking to him, but because he lived with Granny and took care of her, I'm reminded again that Granny is gone when I speak to him. When does the pain of the loss go away? You can move on and get past it, but it seems to catch up with you when you least expect it. Add to the mix that my life is in turmoil right now because, ladies and gentlemen, I have to move again. For those of you keeping score, this will make the third move in less than three years. And since I haven't been able to find a gig to supplement my meager pittance from my par...