My teeth hurt...I hope I don't have a cavity or something

A guy I haven't seen in a while asked me how I'd been the past few months. I replied, "Fine. Same old, same old."

I feel like I've been using that response far more than I should be doing in the past few months. It's kind of irritating. When my Chinese Horoscope for 2009 said that this year would be "a year for treading water - just try to stay afloat" I didn't actually realize it would be so bang on.

Oh well.

God, I'm such a moaner these days.

I guess I've just never had my head so far up my own ass - I literally change what I think my "plan" is every other day. One day, I'm sure I'm firmly planted in the US, ready to apply for MFA programs for Fall 2010 here. Then, I have a conversation with a friend in Manchester and I'm ready to apply for my Masters there. Or then I'll have wild dreams of packing up and moving to LA, finished script in hand, certain that Brad Grey would pick it up in a millisecond, fully-fund it and thus cement my cinematic future.

So, right now I guess my current predicament is US or UK? While it's been a total blessing to be from both parts of the world, I always fear that this is going to be a question that I'll never be able to answer. I love the US. I love England. With all of my heart. When I'm here, I miss it over there. I miss my friends, proper cups of tea, my family, Marmite, mushy peas, Minstrels, Maltesers, the humour, even the constant gloomy precipitation.

When I'm there, I miss it over here - baseball, Saturday Night Live, driving aimlessly in cars, laziness, excessive friendliness in the service industry (well, it is there in SOME places), my brothers, the humor...it goes on.

How can I find a career that will permit me to spend six months of the year in each place? Hmmm....let's tally that to the list of dreams floating through my head.

So, it's cheaper for me to do my Masters in the UK, because I'm a citizen and what not, but I'm fairly certain the programs here are better. But, of course, I'll be over $30,000 in debt when I'm finished.

Balls.

Alright - Fate, I am leaving this one up to You. I'm going to apply to a bunch and whichever one I get into that gives me butterflies, that's where I'll go.

Separately, is it just me or is everyone getting married and/or having babies? And are these side effects of the recession? Please tell me that people aren't struggling so much/bored because they have no money to go out/lonely and confused in the current economic climate that marriage and procreation are seemingly the best tonics.

Hmm...maybe also, please tell me to stop being so cynical.

This post is boring.

This is quite funny. I wonder if that's going to be my future living situation? I hope not.

I Feel Like This Shouldn't Be Real

I've had a surreal night with my Mother, here in Chicago. It's been really fun, but, ultimately, I'm just trying to find a place to smoke right now where the sirens won't go off.

We pinpointed places that we'd been together. Together. She was nearly 30. I was a baby. I don't remember.

And then we pinpointed a place where Dad had fucked up the first time, not the last time, and we all went dilly dally.

And then she pointed out the building where I got the "photo" shoots for my session as a 6-month old auditioning for the Shout commercial that I never got because I was "too bald" and didn't have the abundence of red curly hair that my rival had.

Shit.

Fuck to that.

And then, we sat, looking out over the Chicago skyline, reminiscing. That's a good word. When it's true. We did. We did it to its fullest degree.

And she looked at the Sears Tower and said, "Remember the time that I took you up there, you could have only been about 4, or so, and we went to the top, and I MADE you stand on the edge and look downwards. You cried.

And I said, 'Diana, it's only glass!'

You were only 4."

My whole life, I thought that was my father that did that.

27 years of false memories.

Not sad. But funny.

Life is fucking hilarious.

I Like Good People

Like having conversations with people who actually look you in the eyes when you talk to them.

Or having cool-as-hell Harvard Poetry Professors recommend amazing poets that literally change your life. And then them be willing to give you personal "lessons" on the poems while you're working.

Or people who tell you your drinks are "scrumptous".

Or people who tell you you're funny and should write sitcoms when you're having a lonely day.

Or when you tell people you're reading Orwell's Down And Out In Paris And London and they say, "I read that when I was really down-and-out" and you understand exactly what they mean.

Or people who are older than you who tell you, "It's going to get better" in a very non-condescending way.

Or people who use the word "plethora" or "discombobulated" just when you were about to.

Or people who convince you that your weird toenail isn't so weird because they "have one exactly like it".

I need to keep my Good People glasses on more often.

PS. I loved when Shane Jones' blog was titled I Think You Are A Good Person. I wish he kept it.

I Could Sleep For Days

I'm so tired these days. I can't sleep a full night through without waking up. It's ridiculous.

Last night, I was reading Rumi before I went to sleep and then I had a very vivid dream of being a child, in the middle east (I'm pretty sure it was Iraq) running away from war and bombs and guns and snipers and generally everything that is associated with military combat. It was fucking terrifying. The land was arid and open, with only a few chalky, dead tree stumps for me to hide behind when a truck or a tank drove past. I don't think I was hiding from one particular side - just everyone in general.

I hate those dreams that are so frightening that you even wake up doused in fear. It took me a large portion of the morning to shake it off.

That said, I've finally figured out what I'm getting for a tattoo...I'm psyched about it.

I haven't written anything properly in over a week now. Not good. My 15-page weekly assignment is put on hold I guess until after I get back from this wedding next week.

I can't wait to see my mom.

Blerg

I feel the need to change something today. I don't know what. But something. Other than my underwear of course.

Hot Chip...

is playing now in the cafe. It makes me miss England.

Ahhh...I can't concentrate.

I feel stupid today. Everything I've written is horse vomit. Everything I've typed has already been written, I'm sure.

My back hurts and I'm in the mood to speak French with someone. Perhaps I'll distract myself further and try and find un nouveau ami.

Tuesday.

Things I can't live without:

1)Pens
2)Hummus
3)Sunglasses
4)iPod

I'm having a Diesel Day. Never mind it began around 3pm. And never mind I've been mostly reading instead of writing. I'm still here. All day. Until closing.

I'm drowning in Yehuda Amichai right now. I hadn't really read a lot of his work and then I was chatting about Tagore with this Poetry Professor at Harvard the other day and he reminded me of Amichai.

I. Love. It.

I also love The And Company.

I went to see them in JP last night and it was, as usual, amazing. I feel like they just get better and better every time I see them. This new song, White Dress, nearly made me wet myself.

Right, I'm going to stop procrastinating.

I wish I was sitting in a booth now.

Memorial Day/Night/Weekend/Life

My heel really, really itches right now. It's a fantastically weird feeling. Every time I push it against the back of my shoe to scratch it, it feels like I'm about to sneeze or have an orgasm.

Moving on, I got my ass kicked at work last night. Literally. Me and one server for a full restaurant. I am not exaggerating at all when I say, I think I made nearly 500 drinks. At least it felt like it. I was psyched that Spinal Tap was on in the background. Except I didn't get to pay attention to one second of it.

God, I LOVE that film. It rules. My parents and I used to religiously watch it when I was young. From the age of 8, I knew the song Lick My Lovepump.

Speaking of parents, apparently mine are actually conversing again. They actually had a conversation today, according to my mother. Shocking really. I hope they do start talking again. It still won't make me a champion of marriage.

Speaking of marriage, why the hell does it seem like I am CONSTANTLY having conversations with people about it? I don't start these tirades, believe me. And why do I have to keep repeating to people that I DON'T THINK IT'S A GOOD IDEA? And why, every time I state my case for reasons I DON'T ever want to get married, does the opposing party always look at me like I'm a satanist or something? And why is the opposing party ALWAYS a man???

Leave me alone. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Stop trying to convince me otherwise.

Speaking of men, I should probably have sex soon. But I'm grossed out by most men I meet. Ughh...I wish I was gay.

Speaking of gay, in a different sense, I saw a man wearing white jeans pumping gas this morning (See statement above).

Speaking of this morning, I really need to stop coming home at ungodly hours. I end up looking and feeling like shit the next day.

Speaking of looking like shit, I find it hilarious that the less girly I've become, the bigger my boobs have gotten. The irony.

I'm also pretty pleased I got the word "boob" on this post more than once. Today will be a good day.

I can't tell if I'm a bitch or not or if I'm just bored

Facebook literally is grounds for stalking people. It's quite frightening.

I found someone that I met in Cannes two years ago - charming chap from Cambridge. Very good looking, extremely nice and easy to talk to, and also was/is an aspiring filmmaker/director/producer, etc.

He was basically my Cannes fling of '07. (Sidebar: Everyone has flings at that bloody film festival. It's a breeding ground for anonymous sex.) Then, upon our return to England, we kept chatting and saw each other very briefly.

Until, I flipped one day and just decided to stop answering his calls altogether with no warning, explanation, rhyme or reason. Despite him sending me an email along the lines of "WTF. Are you alive? Can you tell me if I did something?", I just carried on with my life and ignored it.

This, I know, is no unusual story. Boys and girls do this to each other all of the time. ALL of the time. But, it's kind of mean right?

Or is it mean to then, years later, find said person, realise how incredibly good-looking and cool they were and be turned on by the fact that he "made it to LA" and is doing wonderfully and start harassing them hoping to get some kind of attention.

Or am I bored?

Or is it just nothing?

Or am I just over-analyzing this?

Shouldn't I be spending my time doing more constructive things right now? Yes.

Am I hungover? Yes.

Does my back hurt? Yes.

Should I take more painkillers? I don't know.

Sometimes I think I'm not very clever. This could stop me from doing things.

Look at Lillian Hellman





She was so beautiful.

Marshmallow Dreams

When I got in my car to go to work yesterday, there was a Rice Krispy Treat the size of a window in my car. It was ridiculous. Friday night's festivities were obviously hilarious.

When I woke up today, I had this sudden urge to somehow work the word defenestrate into a conversation. I don't know how I'll do it or if, indeed, I'll have to throw someone out of a window.

I also can't be sure if the size of the Rice Krispy Treat and my need to use this word are at all connected.

This weekend is weird.

Compliment Of The Year

My Great Friend Eddie, who's coming from the UK to visit Boston in October:

"I have had a sudden unexplained need to be in America to see you and my buddy Karl, who I met in Germany. It's odd, you don't know each other, but both of you are literary, lovely and slightly addictive."

He's writing my Wikipedia page now.

Quote Of The Week

Old man in bar:

"I feel sorry for people who don't drink because when they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day."

What Is Love?

I can't help but thinking of A Night At The Roxbury after typing that title. So that means my head is going to be permanently bopping throughout this post. Ace.

Right, after my few days of to-ing and fro-ing (sp?) over where the hell I'm supposed to be right now...I've come to the right conclusion.

I'm staying put. Without anymore question.

I worked all day today and (dare I say it?), I was thrilled to be interacting with people again. Three days off of work and it was like I was back to Day One of bartending, filled with enthusiasm and wit.

Then, after 12-hours on my feet, I decided to go to a quiet (different) bar, by myself, and read some poetry while drinking a glass of wine. Ah, how scholarly!

But seriously, it was like Rabindranath Tagore was just the tonic I needed tonight. He's so amazing. His poetry is like liquid acid. He was such a romantic, it kills me.

Like this passage from his poem Unyielding:

Who can understand another!
Heart cannot restrain it's passion.
I had hoped that some remaining
Tear-soaked memories would sway you,
Stir your feet to lightsomeness.

Moon fell at the feet of morning,
Loosened from night's fading necklace.
While you slept, O did my vina
Lull you with it's heartache? Did you
Dream at least of happiness?

Ah, it GOT me. I love it.

And then I read, my favourite poem by him, Unyielding Love, which I won't post (because I'm unclear of the whole copyright boundaries on this) but the last verse is:

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you,
The love of all man's days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life,
The memories of all loves merging with this love of ours -
And the songs of every poet past and forever.


After reading this, I went outside to smoke a cigarette and listen to all the messages on my phone that I hadn't checked for the past few days. A few were from my mother, one was from Char, and the other three - from Alle, Brooke and Tara - were all of them calling "checking up on me" to see how I was feeling.

It's funny how sometimes when you think you're totally alone, you're actually not. And the times you are, you don't even realise it until the moment is gone.

Then I went inside and started thinking about love, (which I haven't thought about a lot recently), in general, and what it means.

Romantically, unendingly, familial or friendly: I used to think "love" would be hot and scalding, like boiling water.

But perhaps it's more like tepid caramel?

I don't know. Just saying. I ramble.

Muscle Spasms

So, I've officially got cabin fever.

I threw out my back a few days ago and have been all hopped-up on muscle-relaxants since. Geez, are those things lethal or what? I've, yet again, lost a few days of my life.

I've also been toying with the idea of moving back to London the past few days. I don't know - it must be the nostalgia I've been having and the general lack of any decent jobs on the horizon. It also could be due to the fact that I've been watching a lot of English films recently - that always gets me: Happy-Go-Lucky made me want to work in Camden Town again; This Is England made me want to hang out with neo-Nazi skinheads in Sheffield again; Notting Hill made me want to take the piss out of floppy-haired Sloany Ponies again; Lock, Stock And Two Smoking Barrels made me want to gamble my mother's flat on a high-risk poker game again; and Forgetting Sarah Marshall, while not an English film, caused me to reflect upon how much I actually DO miss seeing metrosexual men, like Russell Brand, sporting tight, leather trousers and eyeliner.

Yes. It's true. I can't believe I've said it. I also can't believe how many films I've watched since my injury.

So, nonetheless, I've decided to buck up and keep hitting the pavement. Shit, I do a lot of complaining on this blog.

Not going to go anywhere until I'm 100% sure it's the right thing. I'm no quitter man! I don't run away from things at the first sign of a bump in the road! Yes! Yes! I will raise my hand and keep prodding onwards! Yes!

Shit. I think I just threw my back out again.

Balls.

Charmer?

Some guy called me a "charmer" tonight.

I couldn't decide if that was a compliment or a dis.

And then I listened to KOL on the way home and decided it's a dis.

So, I feel better...I don't deal well with compliments.

Shit, I really wish I could fucking afford to go to Jazzfest.

My knees already feel better

Keeping on the subject of liquid I love, THIS is amazing:

I just bought it in a health store because I heard some woman working there suggest it to another lady for her joints.

I figured, hey, I'm thirsty, my knees ache and I like cherries. Bob's your uncle.

Plus, the label said "lessens pain and speeds recovery".

When I got home I looked closer and the small print read, "from exercise".

Oh well. At least it tasted nice.

I met someone...

His name is Mr Jamesons. He's Irish. And he makes me feel really good.

This could be the beginning of a very long and destructive relationship.

Back To The Start

I am just sitting here wondering whether or not my life is too much on Groundhog Day mode.

I literally feel I have been living the same day for the past two weeks now. It's unsettling and makes me want to hop on a plane and head to Cape Town. Stat.

Or Peru. I don't know. I get restless so easily.

On the flip side, my dreams are totally nuts recently. I don't ever remember dreaming that much before I moved back over here, but now I have freakishly vivid and colorful episodes in my sleep every single night.

Perhaps my subconscious is making up for what my real life is lacking?

If so, I guess I'm supposed to go visit Maine soon and get scared shit less.

I'm so tired. I can't wait to have a day off tomorrow.

Biting Nails Again...Must Stop

So, I think I've finally got some general direction. I've decided to apply for my MFA in Creative Writing. And I'm f-ing excited for it.

I was of the mentality that if you can write, you can just write. But I think it would do me some good to have at least a tiny sliver of some structure in my life right now. Plus, I need to be around more people who love words as much as I do.

It's also becoming quickly apparent that I'm going to have to take on another job. Why is money so tight all of the time? There are some bar jobs down in the Financial District that I've seen online but upon looking at their websites, I'm not sure I've got the necessary pulchritude they're looking for, if you know what I mean.

I guess I'll just have to traipse around to places until someone sees through me, thinks I'm a walking cliche, feels sorry for the holes in my clothes and the shabby state of my hair and takes me on board.

I have also decided that people who order club soda at a bar inherently annoy me. Isn't that awful to say? I can't help it though. Perhaps it's because I don't like club soda myself but every time someone orders it I just want to take the squirt gun out and spray them with it (Alle, I'm giving you "the look" right now).

It's true though - it's just such a wang drink. Have regular water. Or a fucking beer. There's something about watching a man order effervescent aqua that screams "I'm a dick so kick the shit out of me".

Maybe I'm getting too irate about this because the guy that just came in to order it was a self-assured, cocky Polish guy with the nose the size of Krakow and a bushy, grey sweater tucked into his tight black pants (which he wore a la Simon Cowell). And maybe it's because said guy made some really bad jokes about 1) the lack of crowds in here now during lunch and 2) the size of his salad.

Yes, it's slow in here today. It's fucking raining outside. And yes, it's a big salad. You're paying nearly $10 for it. Shut up, eat it and be gone with.

Really should have saved that for the other blog.

Sugar Lumps

I went to Flight Of The Conchords last night.

It was amazing. I laughed a lot.
That should really set me up for the rest of April.

And Release....

I figured it out.

Thank goodness.

Also, there's this guy that is coming into the bar more frequently during lunch hours and I have a distinct feeling he's a...well, I don't want to say it because it's awful.

I don't know him for Jack but, I don't know...he's got that socially awkward, stuttery, creepy vibe to him. And he has white hairs coming out of his nose which make it look like they're covered in cobwebs.

I'm most likely going to hell by even suggesting something like that. He's probably a lovely older man who just doesn't have many friends and doesn't know how to talk to twenty-something girls without making them feel uncomfortable.

For instance though, when I just gave him his food and I asked him if I could get him anything else, he responded: "Um, um...so those mountains you were talking about to that guy last week. Can you hike on them?"

I understand that some people are genuinely socially awkward but aren't there appropriate moments to bring up 5-day old conversations?

I don't know. I'm just saying.

To Alle

It looks like you're the only one who will ever read this seeing as I can't manoeuvre around blogspot properly.

Enjoy.

I need a new computer. And a new haircut.

All of this will be done when I win the lottery tomorrow. Sweet.

#%$$!!

I am NOT in a people person mood today.

Not at all.

I really don't want anyone to talk to me for the rest of the day.

I may pretend I'm deaf for the rest of the day. Or I may go sit in the cinema for hours after I finish work.

Ughh..sleep.

I Have Just Wasted Over An Hour Of My Life...

trying to figure out how the hell to post comments on other people's blogs, and I can't do it. Literally, it's perplexing. I can post on Alle's site...BUT NO ONE ELSE'S.

Ughh...perhaps all of blogspot has secretly blocked me.

All the while, I've been listening to this obnoxious couple next to me on a blind date. Thus far, from slivers of their conversation, the whole cafe has gathered that:

1) They're on a blind date from Match.

2) He has a son.

3) She thinks he's very abrupt.

4) He is "fucked up and doesn't want to cause any problems in her life" - translation, "This isn't going to work."

Good for them for trying though, I guess. Way to put yourself out there.

His knee hasn't stopped shaking for over an hour now.

Plus, there's a big fat hole in my tights and it doesn't even look cool. I have to buy more before I go to work.

Another Splendid Rainy Day

I'm having a lot of luck with rainy days.

Despite the fact that I've got to go back to work in about fifteen minutes, I'm in really good spirits.

Just spoke to my brother - who I hadn't spoken to in nearly a month and he is in an AMAZING mood, which normally is NOT how he has been feeling in the last conversations I've had with him. I'm so happy when my family is happy. I just can't help it.

Plus, Albert Pujols just hit a Grand Slam and the Blues made the playoffs.

And this group of kids I served today were absolutely the most polite and well-mannered people I've dealt with in weeks. They were only about 22, but they were complete gems.

Small things, but definitely reasons to be smiling right now.

Jousting

I don't know what's happened to me but recently, things that I really used to care about - stupid things - don't bother me so much anymore.

Like fighting with people, for instance. I simply don't have the energy for it. It's like jealousy - a wasted emotion.

It's pretty refreshing to put down your sword. I'd imagine it's even more refreshing to walk without your shield too. I'm working on that last one.

So, my mother and sisters are in Thailand and I can't tell you how much I wish I was there. God, I love traveling the world so much. I always want to be abroad or at least have trips planned. I didn't realize how spoiled I was in England, with their "five week" holidays a year and what not. I always had a trip planned, or some weekend away on the horizon.

Here, I got nothin'. No vacations to look forward to, no visits to a place where they don't use the Roman Alphabet on the agenda - just USA for now.

Not a bad thing, I guess. But definitely hard to get used to. I miss India, every day of my life. And I miss Cape Town probably every hour of my life.

So, what to do? Immerse myself in words I guess. Mine and other people's.

I've read some pretty inspiring things online recently - there are a lot of creative people out there. Thanks to all for distracting me from worrying me for things over which I have no control and making me focus on things of which I do have more control.

And the circle gets the square.

Wow

I just read this.

It's amazing.

Fear And Loathing In Boston

Last night I had a dream that there was hole in my computer. Literally. A big, fat hole was burned right through the center of it. I remember putting my finger in it to see if it was real and it was.

Then, this morning I woke up and started to do some work and my computer just flipped out and crashed. The screen was dead and every time I tried to reboot it, the screen remained black and these ominous, three beeps would come out of it.

I freaked out. I was certain that I'd lost everything on my computer. Everything. My mind started racing and I couldn't stop thinking, "SHIT, I haven't backed up ANY of my work." Not to mention the thousands of dollars of iTunes music I had on there. Balls.

I'm not ashamed to admit this, but I cried. I cried like a big baby for about three minutes before I got my act together and went to the Apple store.

I see now why it's called The Genius Bar.

When I sat down and opened my filthy, 2004 PowerBook G4 (which looked pathetic compared to all the sweet new ones they have now in that store), I told Nick, a grungy lad with cool spectacles and the most perfect nose I've ever seen on a human being, that my computer was dead. Please help me.

I thought I was going to cry again. I looked like shit, my hair was a greasy mess, and I swear he could smell my desperation. (That's desperation. Not body odor. I HAD put deodorant on before I ran out the door. I think.)

Me: It won't even turn on. The screen just goes black and then whenever I hit the power button, these three beeps come out of the computer.

Nick: Oh, right. Yeah, The Three Beeps. Mmmm, hmmm... I see. One moment.

He takes the computer to the back and I wait.

Waiting in the Apple store is like waiting in a doctor's office. It's white, clean, clinical. Hoards of people clutching their computers/ipods/iPhones look on nervously as they await their appointment. Those patients being dealt with at the Genius Bar are equally as nervous as their doctor tests and pokes their machine, using jargon like "malware" and "proxy server". One guy, whose face I literally couldn't see because it was so covered in hair, said to this 60-something year-old woman, "You're really going to have to invest in Time Machine. It stores all of your old files, no matter how old and it really is a beautiful thing to watch it at work in all of its glory."

So, I waited nervously, while spanning out in my mind how the hell I was going to afford a new $1500 computer at this point in my life - Apple has payment plans, right?

Nick came back a few minutes later, with a face like stone, shoved my newly-cleaned (and my does it sparkle now) laptop in my face and uttered my favorite East Coast phrase: "You're all set."

What?? He fixed it. The perfect-profiled Genius had fixed it. Something to do with the RAM and switching its position inside the computer. An angel had saved me.

En route home, I took this as a warning sign to finally change the oil in my car and get my tires and brakes checked. Eric at Meineke also made me think I was paranoid and crazy and said everything was fine. He even fixed part of my bumper that was falling off at the front after I ran over a median during a snowstorm (literally couldn't see the damn thing).

So, that's my adventurous day off. Shit though - I've become one of those reliant people when it comes to my computer. I literally don't know what I would have done if I had lost everything. Scary.

Then I spoke to my mom and we talked about the earthquakes in Italy and I realized what an asshole I'd been today.

Things could be worse - they could LITERALLY be crashing down around me instead of metaphorically, which is usually how I dramatically describe things when I get stressed.

Seriously. Stop it.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha....

Today was supposed to be opening day for the Red Sox but guess what??? IT GOT POSTPONED BECAUSE OF THE RAIN.

I don't know why this amuses me so much but it does. I don't care how long I live in this city, or any other city for that matter, but I will always loathe any team that isn't my team.

The Cardinals are playing today. That's for damn sure.

On an entirely separate note, I'm at work and I just went across the road to get lunch and this LOVELY Greek man who owns the restaurant gave me two cups of chai tea for free while I was waiting because he said I "looked cold". So nice. I love it when nice little things like that happen in human interactions. It sort of re-ignites my faith in society.

I also realized today that I am back, deep in the depths of my asexual slump. I go through these periods of time where I just lose ALL interest altogether in boys and anything related to crushes, dating, flirting or caring. It usually lasts a few months and then goes to the other extreme and I have 9,000 potential love interests. That's how I do. Feast or famine.

But I am definitely back in my asexual, "off" months.

OK. Scratch that. Hottest and funniest guy ever just walked in the bar. He just told me his first girlfriend was called Diana and she dumped him because he wouldn't go to "second base" with her.

Would I do something like that? I literally would do anything this guy asked me to. He is hysterical. And he has curly hair.

Ughh... and I now just noticed that this guy is married.

Dammit.

Momentary lapse over. Let the asexual months proceed.

JS

I just came across this quote:

"When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change."

Isn't that amazing?

Lovely

Today is my day off and it is pissing down with rain. The funniest thing is, I actually LOVE it. I don't think I've said that about any kind of precipitation in a long time.

I am SO happy to be sitting in my apartment, in front of my computer with the miserable weather outside sort of trapping me in here. It's great.

Plus, I finally got my period today. (Is that too much to say on the internet? Ughh...I don't even care. Women get them - it's a fact of the world.) Anyhoo, this is kind of a big deal because I hadn't had one in months - according to doctor it was "due to stress". Perhaps the fact that I'm finally riding the crimson wave foretells some less stressful times ahead? I don't know.

My biggest conundrum with today is basically deciding which to do first: write or go to the gym. Seeing as I'm already on this, I'll most likely continue and then end up fobbing off the gym because "it's too late" or something like that.

I worked a double shift yesterday, which I actually found is not that difficult to do after all - IF YOU DON'T HAVE A HANGOVER. I think I've cracked the formula to surviving 12/14-hour days. Now, I just have to figure out what to do about my knees because they hurt from standing up for so long. Maybe I have arthritis?? Geez, I hope not.

After work, I had a glass of wine, which (unsurprisingly) is less of a brain-cell-burning-lubricant than Hendricks. Perhaps I'll switch back to red now.

I've got a good feeling about things now. Really good.

Kudos to me for actually turning rain and menstrual cycles into positive things.

Today is going to be a good day.

This One Has To Stick (That's What She Said)

I have to admit - I'm finding it hard to finish things these days. Well, not so much these days as ALWAYS.

I'm currently embarking on a "writing fiction" escapade. Hence why I jacked in my journalism career some months ago to work in a bar and spend my free time writing stories. Trouble is, I've got a handful of stories and only TWO of them are properly finished.

It's not that I'm a quitter - I'm certainly not. If that was the case, I'd have shipped off back to Brigg a few months ago with my tail between my legs.

I'm like the hare - sprinting confidently at the start of the race but ultimately end up becoming distracted and thus, lose the race. I mean, I'm the hare minus the cockiness.

Take this blog, for instance. This is my second one in a year. I couldn't bear to carry on with my last one (on Wordpress) because it just didn't seem to fit anymore. The title was bugging me. No one was actually reading it (except for my good friend Alle because she's the only person I told about it). And the whole premise of the blog started off under the influence of falsities. I mean, I said I was going to start writing on it frequently (I didn't...there were many month-long hiatuses) and I also said I'd bleed my thoughts onto it without care (I did...but only sometimes).

So. What to do in this situation? I decided - hey, start a new one altogether.

I have presently convinced myself that it is because blogspot is easier to use than wordpress (this, however may just be another one of my distracted excuses...time will tell on this one) but this time, I'm really going to venture to be a bit more committed to it.

Perhaps having a real "blog" spine will spur on some more dedication to finishing some of my fictitious works, right?

So, that's my two-cents worth for now. Or at least that's my self-motivational speech out of the way.

On a separate note, I'm currently watching re-runs of Saturday Night Live. I'm watching the very first season, and Holy Crap is it funny. I forgot how hilarious it was.

Raquel Welch is hosting this one and she's wearing a white suit and looks amazing. Oh and she just started singing and then John Belushi came on as Joe Cocker and sings with her. Awesome.

I think I live in the past too much. Must stop this.