16 posts tagged “navel gazing”
I was late for work this morning because I was tearing apart my apartment in search of my digital camera so that I could take a picture of myself to post on my blog. (Never did find the darn thing.) And then I had a bit of an existential crisis while trying to come up with 'interests' for my newly revamped LJ profile. Is it 2008? Am I 32 years old?
So, anyway, I was trying to take a picture of myself because, as readers of Ye Olde Blogge will remember, my goal two years ago when I joined Weight Watchers was to fit into those skirts I got during my first round of job interviews in 2005. (Got that? Do I need to draw a timeline?) Last year at this time I was able to sausage myself into them, but they were tight and unflattering. Well, guess what? I wore one today to work and it's actually - well, I don't want to say loose, but there was no VPL or anything like that. There was room between the skirt and my thighs/belly/ass. So yay.
See, here's the thing about these skirts...and unless you're a fat girl, I'm not sure that you're going to understand it. There's nothing fancy about them. They're A-line linen skirts that I got at Target for, like, $15 or something. What makes them special to me, however, is that I got them from the "normal sized people" section. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't hate myself or the way I look...I hate clothing manufacturers and their insistence upon making ugly clothes for fat people. And now that I can fit in "normal sized people" clothes, a whole new world of shopping possibilities is open to me. Of course, now I need a new fitness goal....
I think I figured out why I am so gun-ho about LJ and getting involved there this week. (And as we all know, there's nothing I like more than navel gazing and figuring out my thoughts about something...) Anyhoo, as part of my Web 2.0 crap that I do for work, I've been hitting Twitter pretty hard. If you haven't tried it, I highly recommend it. (I think it's why I don't change my FB status as much anymore or post here.) It's really made me miss the conversational aspects of the Internet that I used to have back when I was so into message boards. I don't know what happened, but I just slowly stopped posting places and entered into lurkerdom. Well, it's time to break out of that, methinks.
My professions big conference is coming up next month which means having to network and dealing with possible awkward situations. I've been really dreading it, to the point of having stomach pain when I thought of it. But, on Tuesday I had a long conversation with a co-worker* in which I gave him the 411 on everything and he's promised to be my wingman and help me get through it. I feel a lot better about everything ever since.
*I don't talk much about work or co-workers for obvious reasons, but I do want to talk about this co-worker....let's call him "Skippy." (That's sort of my mental nickname for him.) I love him to death. He's like the little brother I asked Santa for every year. He sort of reminds me of my dad and apparently, I remind him a lot of his mother. So basically we use each other to work out our family issues. And lest you get the wrong idea, he is a married man and even if I didn't consider a wedding ring to put someone in the "permanently unavailable" category, I am so unattracted to him, it's not even funny. Seriously, the thought of having sex with him makes me want to vomit. I just can't even picture it. But we just get each other and it's so great to have this new partner in crime. And as I told the TL last night...married men? Are even better than gay boyfriends when it comes to giving advice on male issues.
Okay, first things first...everyone's alive. There's extensive property damage, but houses are still habitable and nothing living died. Also, given my dog's intense dislike of thunderstorms, it's probably good that she's dead because a tree fell on the car that she usually hid under and it she would have likely died of fright.
I hesitate to be melodramatic, but you know...damn. I'm starting to feel a little like Job here. I'm so very, very happy that I'm getting out of town tomorrow. Prior to last night it's because I didn't want to spend the weekend either (a) moping around my apartment or (b) up at my parents' house throwing myself on my dog's grave. But now that apparently there are no trees around the house...I just don't know what that's going to be like. There was a combo of 100+ year old maples and a ton of ornamentals that I've planted through the years. All gone.
There was one good thing to come out of this week...Barack Obama finally cinched the Democratic nomination. Read this summary from the Daily Kos that compares how he and Hillary have performed as Senators. I was excited about him before, but now I'm totally waving the Obama flag.
Okay. Leaving tomorrow hellishly early. Back Monday afternoon.
tortuga is...
unable to come up with a status message that doesn't either (a) passive-aggressively call one of you bitches out on your increasingly cuntish behavior as of late or (b) make her sound like a drama queen and put up some sort of woe-is-me message and has thus decided to act like an adult and just leave the damn thing blank until she can come up with something amusing or light-hearted OR until Friday when she'll put up her road trip message.
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I hate that I have had to friends some of my enemies for political reasons on Facebook. (And no, if you're reading this, you're not one of them. Besides, I would passive-aggressively call you out on your increasingly cuntish behavior here, not Facebook to make sure that the message was well and truly received. Because I care.) I've been trying to get my balance back by thinking through the Four Noble Truths but Facebook (as well as the Internet in general) are not compatible with nirodha. So many people and things that I want but cannot have! It sucks. Or just when I get almost detached, someone does something really cuntish and I get all annoyed and worked up again. Being away from the Internet this weekend should help me get detached enough so that I'll stop feeling like a walking jangle of exposed nerve endings. I hope. I need to get this under control or I am gonna have to smack a bitch pimp style before the summer is up.
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Word of the day? Cuntish. But you probably figured that out, Gentle Reader. You're smart like that.
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On a somewhat related note, I was cruising around Second Life yesterday, and I ran into a more experienced workshop member who proceeded to act like a know-it-all bitch. I hate know-it-all bitches! So why do they keep finding me? Just because I'm polite doesn't mean that I'm an idiot. I can only hold my tongue for so much longer.
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On a completely unrelated note, I switched from Cinemax (which came as a free trial with my cable) and got Showtime. The Tudors? Complete crap but I love it! I mean, there are so many things wrong with it - casting, acting, historical accuracy...but dammit if I'm not watching every week. It's the television equivalent of a Phillipa Gregory novel.
What can I say about San Francisco?
I think, like Paris, it's a city that everyone needs to see before they die. I also think that, like Paris, it's a city that people go wild for, but I merely really like. Really, really like, but not completely madly in love with. Which is also the sort of the same problem with Silent Bob. But I'll get to that in a minute.
The best way to describe San Francisco is imagine if they took Chicago and put it in Europe. Or maybe Hong Kong. (Not that I've ever been there, mind you.) I found that I had to repeatedly remind myself that I was still in the United States. It's all so beautiful. And the weather is just stunningly perfect.
As for the sights, I did it all. You name it, I saw it. I think one would probably need a week to do it all properly, especially if you wanted a "vacation" not a "trip" like I did. I also had day or half-day trips to Carmel, San Jose (Which did not appear in any guide book, but Silent Bob wanted to show me where he went to school - and it's very pretty), Muir Woods and Wine Country. But if you really wanted to expend energy, you could probably hit the major attractions and neighborhoods in three days.
I don't know why I didn't love it. I know I should, but I couldn't quite get there.
Things I would tell/ recommend to people traveling to SF area: (1) Get a muni city pass that lets you ride buses, street cars, subways (but not the BART) and trolleys as well as gives you admission to most of major attractions (2) trolleys are effing scary and I'm surprised more people don't die on them (3) Pacific time sucks, especially if you like morning cable news (4) Union Square is sort of annoying noise wise, but it's a good place to stay transportation wise (5) try to do day trips out of the city (6) Alcatraz is not as scary/depressing as I thought it would be, but there's some bad JuJu coming off the walls in the solitary confinement area (7) the hills are bigger than you think and they're EVERYWHERE (8) it's neat to try things like In-n-out burger, which we do not have on my side of the country (9) Fisherman's Wharf is unbearably touristy (10) chinatown wasn't as exotic as I thought it would be (11) It's worth it to try and walk across the Golden Gate Bridge (12) the Haight is full of rich kids pretending to be poor (13) the real homeless people weren't nearly as aggressive as I had been warned they'd be (14) the Tenderlion (aka the "scary section") looked nicer than most parts of Cincinnati. I never once feared for my safety the entire time. (15) if your hotel is near a BART station, take it into the airport from SFO (16) SFO is right on the bay, so when you land, you are pretty sure the plane is crashing. It's Logan Airport bad. FYI.
So. Silent Bob. He did come up for a couple days. Which, knowing how much busy he is (full time job [which is more like two given the way they run him ragged] + taking 12 hours of graduate work towards his Masters), just was unbelievably wonderful of him. I was really honored by it. Also, it was hard to not feel guilty.
Here's the thing about Silent Bob: he's really insecure. So much so, that he constantly catalogs (no pun intended) all of his faults. And while that's not a turn-off per se, it does have the effect of turning one's ardor into pity. I found myself almost starting to have maternal feelings for the man and wanting to hold him and stroke his head. Instead of, you know, other things. Further, I have a bad habit of being the female version of a "Captain Save-a-Ho" as evidenced by my 16 year whatever with Tiger. I don't really want to go down that path again. It wouldn't be fair to either of us. And there's also the nagging thought of "are you just here because you don't think that you can do any better?"
I think if I lived in the same town as him and got to see him more than
a few days a year, he would calm down and not be so insecure, and I
would be able to maintain the romantic/lustful feelings for him. But were we to live in the same town, even then it's entirely possible that I would be more doing it because I think I should
(he's cute [disregard his FB picture which makes him look like some sort of extra from Deadwood] and smart [like scary smart] and actually hits most of the points on my "list
of ideal traits" in a mate) rather than as a result of some sort of fiery passion.
I just feel very comfortable with him. Like we've been married 50 years. (Now that I think about it, he's the human equivalent of jammie pants.) But maybe that's a good thing? I don't feel the need to be anyone but my absolute self with him, so I wasn't all animated and chatting and trying to be a clown. I just was me. Although I was mortified at how I geeked out about over some pelicans. But, yeah. It's comfortable. Again, maybe if he didn't live on the other side of the country, that too would change and I'd feel...more passionate. Tingly? Fluttery? Assuming I'm even capable of such things still. Now that I think of it, a lot of this could also have been the result of nerves as well. I mean, why did I think that I'd want to run into his arms and immediately stick my tongue down his throat? That's so not me! For me to hug someone is a big step. You know, about an hour before he had to leave, I was finally starting to feel a slight urge that way. Unfortunately, as he doesn't want to leave California and I'm not sure I can move across the country, I don't know that I'll ever get a satisfactory answer to this mystery.
I'm not really torn up about it, which is another mystery all together. I'm honestly just perplexed about my feelings. Like, how is it that I just don't know my feelings toward someone? Is there some sort of subconscious block going on that's preventing me from moving forward and committing to romantic feelings? Am I trying to make more out of it than is there because I've got nothing else better to do personal life-wise? Is this a common thing and it's just a shock to my usual "black and white feelings towards people" self? I just do not know. Maybe I'll try another visit (longer, and in his home turf so we're not both tourists) and see how things go at the big conference in July.
But anyway, San Francisco is awesome. Check it out.
The series finale of "The Wire" airs tonight.
As I've said before, I'm not even going to try and do a review and/or analysis of the show because it is so damn good that I could not possibly do it justice. Just trust me when I say that it is quite possibly the best show ever produced for television. Dickensian is the term I keep hearing thrown around this year to describe it, and I guess it's suitable.
I just remember when I first started watching it. It was my first summer of library school. I didn't really know anyone yet - at least not well enough to socialize with - and was still pretty down on life. (Read: Still feeling the lingering after-effects of my post-law school nervous breakdown.) The fact that I had to open the Chemistry library at 8am didn't help matters much.
Well, one afternoon I was trolling the HBO OnDemand listings - most likely looking for one of HBO's pornish "documentaries" - and saw that they had "The Wire" up starting with Season 1, episode 1. So I decided to start watching it....aaaaannnnnnndddd over the course of the next day watched the first 8 hours of the series (all that was up at the time.) I then harassed my sister into watching it and she got hooked as well.
That was the Summer of '04...
Since then I made a lot of swell friends, got my shit together (details of which too numerous to go into here), graduated from library school, moved in with my parents, gained 10 pounds, turned down a bunch of jobs for what I thought was my dream job, got stuck in job from hell, met the Tattooed Librarian, got over Tiger, gave up on the idea of ever finding love, became a miserable person, gained another 20 pounds, basically undid all the good things and work I did on myself in library school, met Silent Bob, decided to save myself (again), risked a lot and burned some bridges and applied for current job, became intimately acquainted with my parents mortality, kicked ass and took names at current job, had a lot of (in retrospect) unnecessary boy drama, after year at terrible apartment complex found great apartment, walk to work and have saner hours, can once again fit into clothes that I was wearing in '05 (and they're actually looser than they were in '05), have savings account and can still afford to take awesome vacations, think it's possible that someone may one day have romantic interest in me...basically I'm on a good trajectory for the time being.
So, yeah...a lot has happened since I discovered "The Wire."
Five days until Valentine's Day. I'm not really feeling that angsty about it. I've accepted my spinster state and honestly think that it's probably the best option for me, especially as I'm currently coming off of one of my "tortuga flips out and becomes really insecure as a result of a possible romantic interest" fugues.
(The friend that called Super Tuesday night? Things had been really flirty between us lately and then he called me Tuesday night and ever since he's been really distant and I can't help but feel like there was a test there that I somehow failed. Blah. And while it's all well and good to tell oneself that "if I failed his test then he's clearly not the one for me and p.s. fuck him right in the ear", rejection still hurts. Double blah.)
Earlier this week I read this article that sorta advocates settling for Mr. Good Enough. (A topic Baria hit upon here about a month ago.) The blogs I read that are linking to the original article are, I guess somewhat predictably, flipping out. I don't know...maybe it's a product of my Midwestern upbringing, but I'm kinda like, "Yeah, this makes sense to me." Not that I feel the need to have a partner or, God forbid, children. And on those occasions when I do desire a partner, I just don't see the point in trying for someone with the six figure income, full head of hair, six pack (on his abdomen, not in the fridge) and makes me feel like I have fireworks in my pants every time we lock eyes. Too stressful!
Know what I want (when I do want someone)? A nice guy. Someone to hold my hand and who will talk to me at 2 in the morning because I can't sleep. And will go to the grocery store and get me some Ginger Ale the next time my cooking gives me food poisoning. And if he can put up with my staunch refusal to wear thong underwear, then I can tolerate a belly on him. (Although honestly.. this is not much of a sacrifice on my part because if I were a gay man, I would totally be cruising Bear Bars. I'm just saying I'm not asking for perfection.) Because you know what? This whole being an adult thing is really fucking scary sometimes and I could really use a partner in all of it, someone to depend on.
I'm actually writing about this now, not because of Valentine's Day or because of the recent romantic fugue, but because I found a video that completely expresses what I most desire.
Don't you love it when you finally figure out what it is that has been going on in your subconscious that's been making you act like a total prat the past few days? No? Just me then?
*sigh*
So, I have been acting like a total prat the past few days. To the casual observer it may not seem like I was acting like the traditional definition of prat, but trust me, I was. But just to myself. I was still Little Miss Sunshine to everyone else. At least I think I was....
It wasn't really a surprise. I always seem to get a little case of the holiday blues. I just hate Christmas, but it's more than that. I think it's worse this year because it's been slowly building since I got sick last week. The past three days have been almost unbearable. I have been acting completely irrationally and wrestling with insecurity and fighting insomnia and then having really messed up dreams once I finally do fall asleep. These symptoms all feed each other and it's pretty much all one big cycle of crap-ness.
On my drive to the farm this afternoon, I had a bit of a lightbulb moment and figured out at least one of the reasons why this happens and why it's worse this year. Short answer? I'm scared people will forget about me. Like I mentioned in my post last week about my bout with food poisoning, I was sick a lot as a kid and had to miss a lot of school. It always seemed that when I came back to school, a whole bunch of interesting stuff had happened and people pretty much got along fine without me. So now whenever I'm sick and out of commission, I sort of freak out that my friends and co-workers will forget about me and realize that they don't need me in their life.
The Christmas season is similar to a sick-out in that there's a forced separation from one's social circle. Back in the old days it was because school was out of session and everyone went home. But these crazy modern, technologically enhanced times don't really have it any better. All week I've been seeing my friends, co-workers and random strangers leave messages on their blogs, MySpaces and Facebooks that say that they're going on holiday leave and will be back in January. And each time I saw a message like that, I would feel my anxiety and insecurity rise just a little. By Wednesday night I was in a total state and was manically google stalking people and re-reading everyone's blog. It was a little sad.
I still hate Christmas and I'm still feeling crazy and I have just about convinced myself that most people who have ever met me dislike me intensely.
(Like, seriously, I am pretty sure Silent Bob hates my guts right now. There's this teeny-tiny voice in the back of my head telling me that I'm being stupid, but I don't believe it. And why you may ask? Because he's visiting his family in Missouri right now and said, quite understandably to a rational person, that he won't be on the Internet much. So I told him that after we finished our last scrabble game, if he wanted to wait until he was back in California to start a new one, that would be fine with me. So our game finished last night AND HE DIDN'T START A NEW GAME WITH ME. And even though I said that it would be fine, I have somehow taken his lack of starting a game as evidence that he's been looking for an excuse to stop playing scrabble with me EVEN THOUGH WE'VE BEEN PLAYING CONTINUOUSLY SINCE AUGUST 1 and HE STARTS AT LEAST HALF THE GAMES. Also, I poked him and HE DIDN'T POKE ME BACK. CLEARLY HE HATES MY GUTS!!!!! OH MY GOD, WHY AM I SO FUCKING CRAZY?!??!?!)
I don't expect that these feelings will go away until January and I'm back in my usual routine. However, at least I know part of the reason why I'm feeling this way. I think I'm going to pop some sleeping pills tonight and try to get at least 8 hours of sleep. That might help with some of the crazy.
You know those bumper stickers that say, "I wish I was the person my dog thinks I am"? I'm sort of like that, except mine would say, "I wish I had the life my parents and landlord think I do."
As we've previously discussed, my sister told me a few weeks ago that my mom thinks that I have a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Not really sure and when it comes to my love life, my parents have adopted a strict "Don't ask, don't tell" policy. Anyhoo, this belief became abundantly clear over Thanksgiving. I, of course, did not help matters because I kept slipping into the royal "we" when discussing my life and adventures here.
So, earlier this week I got up in the middle of the night to use the restroom, as one does one they get past the age of 27. When I hopped back into bed, the strut that holds up the boards that hold up the mattress broke. Down I went. I ended up disassembling my bed and putting the box spring on the ground. It makes my bedroom look like a frat boy lives there (especially since I had to take all the crap that I stored under my bed and stow it around the bedroom), but it works and it's not like I entertain guests in my bedroom, so I'm not complaining.
BUT THEN I realized that I was going to have to tell my parents that I broke my bed. Like, I'm a grown ass woman and if I break my bed because I had a marathon hot monkey sex session, well, by God, that's nothing to be ashamed about. And the fact that it broke because it was an old bed that probably didn't handle the recent move well? Doubly not shameful.
But I still waited a day and a half to tell my parents.
As I feared, they suspect the former reason for the bed breaking and not the latter. I think they're almost hoping that it's the former. I almost hate to tell them that an exciting evening in the tortuga household involves a pot of tea and a book or movie.
Coincidentally, the day after the bed breaking, I ran into my landlord while walking home. We stopped and chatted and I apologized if I woke her up the night before. She said she didn't hear anything and once again encouraged me to be louder. She said my friends and I should crank up the music and dance around. Which would be a spendid idea if (a) I like listening to loud music and (b) I had any friends within an hour drive.
I've been feeling kinda broody and lonely lately. The constant reminders of my lonely state from parents and landlord are not helping matters. And ironically, all I want to do is curl up on my couch and not talk to anyone.
Last night as I lay on the couch watching the awesomely bad "Tin Man", my good mood of the past few days began to decline. Like, free-fall into despair. Zooey Deschanel's line readings were pretty janky, but it really wasn't as bad as all that, so I didn't know what was wrong. Then today I realized that it was PMS. So, yay. Mystery solved. I'm still sort of bummed though, which seems all the worse considering how everything was sunshine, lollipops and rainbows everywhere last week. Hopefully the gray skies will soon clear up.
In what may be a related note, I have also begun to have delayed reactions to things. For example, something happened a few weeks ago that I thought I was okay with but now I'm sorta not okay with it. My delays are running anywhere from weeks to minutes; nothing is being reacted to at the correct moment. It's weird. Actually, you know what it sort of reminds me of? Sometimes when I get a massage, the masseuse will start to work a lump out and all of the sudden I'll get hit with a flood of emotion, like it was all being held inside of that bump. I wonder if my newly active lifestyle is somehow contributing to this?
Hmmmm...what else is new?
I thought I was going to have to reach through my computer monitor and choke a bitch this morning. That was definitely NOT a delayed reaction. I actually started to blog about it, but decided on going to work instead.
Bummer news: apparently a LOT of chocolate in the world is a result of slave labor. I think I'm going to try to remember to seek out fair trade chocolate when possible. Fortunately, my sweet tooth isn't what it used to be.
For my male librarian friends, I love y'all, but if I ever catch you wearing this in public, I'll never speak to you again.
Yesterday my horoscope said to reconnect with old friends. I sent an e-mail to Tiger. He sent a pleasant enough response back...I just didn't care. I mean, I did, but just not the same way. I guess I still find it fascinating somehow that I'm not in love with him anymore. I also e-mailed Susan M. and guess what? She's coming to visit me the weekend after next! Yay! I am slowly but surely becoming one of those normal people with friends who visit them and who one goes to visit. Go me.
Okay, I'm still exhausted and threatening to become weepy, but let's get back into the saddle. And then I'm going to bed. Even if it's just 8:30.
Okay, Toronto was cool. Not as awesome as I was expecting, but perhaps I built it up too much. Lord knows it was pretty much the mirage I kept marching towards to keep my sanity since early September. So, I didn't have the coup de foudre that I have had with other locales, such as London or Washington, D.C., and I doubt that I'll ever yearn for it, but I did enjoy it. It's on the list of "places that I could see myself living someday."
All in all in reminded me of Cleveland....and that's totally not an insult. The only thing that really disappointed me was its lake access. There's islands right offshore of the downtown area and so you couldn't stand there and stare off into the great expanse of water, as one can in Cleveland or Chicago or my beloved U.P. At any rate, it was nice to be in a big city again. For the life of me I cannot figure out why I like big cities so much, since they are pretty much the complete opposite of what I have grown up with, but they really just feel right to me. Big cities and the sticks. No middle ground for me.
The conference programs weren't great, but I did learn some stuff. I have to say, it was nice to go to a conference and not be all worried about personal issues beforehand, such as "am I going to have sex and should I have gotten some stuff waxed?" or "is that crazy bitch going to beat me up?" I'm starting to become known to people, and surprise of surprises, people seem to like me. I swear, despite the fact that sometimes it seems like the world and society is specifically designed to make me feel bad about myself, I really don't have bad self esteem. But at the same time, I am somewhat surprised that people, you know...like me. Not only notice me, but like me. It's very weird to get my head around, because I for the most part feel like I just blend into the background. I found myself being very Stuart Smalley-ish at times on this trip.
I also realized that I have really got my shit together when it comes to my career. There's the aforementioned people knowing me thing, there's the fact that I realized that I'm doing comparatively a lot of stuff, people ask me to do more stuff because they seem to think I know what I'm doing, and I know what path I need to take to get to the next step in my career. Considering where I was last year at this time, I'm pretty impressed with myself. Go tortuga.
Speaking of last year, I got to hang with a former co-worker and my replacement. My replacement is just at the point where he's starting to realize how dysfunctional that place is. He'll survive it, though, at least I hope he will because he seemed like a good egg. Stereotypical, almost painfully geeky librarian, but a good egg nonetheless. I also had another confirmation (as if I needed another) that moving to my current job was the right move for me. My former co-worker asked me, in all seriousness, "Does [my boss] talk to [me]?" See, our former boss was a ghost. I could literally go days without seeing him, let alone talk to him. I honestly think the most I ever talked to him was during my interview.
Her question really took me aback, because my current boss is pretty much the complete opposite. In the movie of my life, after I get asked that question by former co-worker, there will be a smash cut to later that evening when I was out to dinner with my boss and we talked about (a) cheesy television shows (b) teen vampire fiction and (c) our favorite erotica authors. The thought of even having that conversation with old boss is so beyond the realm of possibility that I can't even imagine it. And I have a good imagination.
I also got to do a lot of thinking on this trip. The emptiness in my life (due to work taking over) that I was complaining about two weeks ago turned out to be a boon. My decks were cleared and my mind could wander wherever. (I also had a birthday and that always turns one to introspection.) Really, even though I was in a big city, I felt like I was on retreat in Thomas Merton's hermit shack. I tried to notice what (and who) I missed and what I could live without. I read an entire novel for the first time in who knows how long. I went for long walks. I ate when I was hungry and slept when I was tired. These are things that I guess most people do on their own without any prodding, but I apparently need to go to another country to do.
I decided that since my shit is together career wise, I'm going to start working on more personal things. Nothing like "learn to love myself" or any of that kind of bullshit, because I'm already there. Basically, I want to get some hobbies. Try some new and different things. Nothing extreme...although I am sorely tempted to dye my hair some sort of funky color. I just think that since I've pretty much broken out of my ruts over the past two months out of necessity, this is going to be a good time to find some new ones.
This reminds me...on my actual birthday, I had nothing on the schedule but to sightsee. I got it in my head that I was going to go up the CN Tower. Now, you have to understand Gentle Reader, I am scared of heights. Terrified of heights. I can't stand on a kickstep at work without getting nauseous. But I saw the tower and it didn't look too tall, and I thought, This will be a great kick-off to The Year of Doing New Things. Then I got to the tower and yeah, it doesn't look too tall....when you're on the other side of the city. When you're standing at its base and looking straight up it, that mofo is pretty darn tall. So then I thought, Fuck that noise. NOT going up the tower will be a great kick off to The Year of Doing What Feels Right.
So Ladies and Gentlemen, I hereby declare my 32nd year to be The Year of Doing What Feels Right.
I was pleasantly surprised to discover when I got back home an e-mail from a long lost law school friend wishing me a happy birthday. Don't get me wrong, I really appreciated the e-mails and Facebook messages I got from people wishing me a happy birthday, but this one was just so unexpected. It was nice. This guy is one of a series of near misses I've had in the romance department over the past few years. We almost got there and then...he started dating this chick my so-called best friend set him up with. It's happened time after time after time during the past ten years. It's now to the point that I choose to run away rather then sit around and wait to be introduced to the new chick. And I'm almost positive that the new chick is always right around the corner. Maybe some day I'll be able to balance romance with sanity, but today is not that day.
So, I need to end this post on a sad note...My friend and blog hero Bill has decided to hang up his keyboard and stop blogging. Even though I only started re-reading his blog a few months ago, it quickly became a daily stop again. So everyone raise a glass and give Bill a toast for several years of good work. We'll miss your blog, dude.
