here i am

Dating sucks. Dating sucks. La la la la la la la la. Dating sucks. Just had to get it off my chest fot the umpteenth time. I'm done. I quit. I'm becoming a recluse. In other news ... I have too much work to do, and not enough time or motivation to do it. I didn't go running today because it's a bazillion degrees out and humid and I just didn't FREAKIN' FEEL LIKE IT! I ate pizza for dinner like a heathen hedonist, and now I'm gonna go lay on the couch and either watch crappy TV or read a fluffy pointless chick lit novel and commence becoming a hermit/vegetable because for no particular reason I'm exhausted. And no one is gonna say a word about it! Got it! Also, I need to get over my luddite technophobe tendencies and buy a freakin' DVD player already - because there isn't a single freakin' thing I can get on "videocasette tape" anymore at Blockbastard. What is the world coming to?!???!!!? It's passing me by. I'm 29 yea...

Tonight someone told me that I don't accept myself. I said to them that the defects we recognize in other people are often those we want to avoid in ourselves. But I said it in Spanish and it sounded a whole lot bitchier. M

I was thinking maybe I should change my profile picture. I look so hot up there with that scarf on in the warm laziness of this June sunshine. I can't believe I let my blog's birthday pass by without doing a thing to celebrate it! Of course, I've missed several other non-virtual anniversaries lately, so it's not surprising. I'm in this sort of tricky suspended social holding pattern where I know there are people I should be in touch with, but the awkwardness of making that first call or writing that letter or email seems too daunting. It's as though the joy of closeness is too much a risk. I love people. I love them too much. If I don't stay in touch, maybe they'll just fade away and live forever in my memory instead of dying in a car crash or of just plain' ol' old age. People that I'd once resigned myself to having lost, they appear again, rising from the ashes ... and then I'm supposed to make dates for coffee with them and get to know...

I think I freaked enough about turning 29 that 30 is going to be much more of a breeze than I'd anticipated. I'm starting to get what they say about what it is to be in your thirties. I'm starting to understand what it is to really not care what anyone thinks - least of all the raging critic in my head. I think he's due for retirement sometime soon here. I had that brief moment of sheer utter panic and dismay when it hit me that I would never be as taut and fresh and perky and dewy and scintillating again as I may have once been ... then I got over it. I was shocked to even ever have had that moment in the first place. I'm even more starkly floored that I got past it. That would have been an ugly way to live any more of the moments of my life, for sure. I spent an awful lot of time figuring out what it was I didn't want for and of my life. And don't get me wrong, that was important work that had to be done (as awkward and painful as the process was), but ...

Reminder to self - tell the lovely readers about: JWQ and his inevitable decline - AKA a terrible waste of a brilliant mind. Shocking! The greasemonkey and the fixing cars shirt. Post office adventuring. $2.00 worth of scallops. Lizard eyes. My rage about the kids and the drugs and my precious H. The REAL STORY. Best.Haircut.Ever Worst.Date.Ever Square pegs, round holes, or maybe just two round holes ... To be continued, to be announced ... M

1. I killed the begonia. 2. It was only a matter of time. 3. Dating still sucks. 4. I hate trying to read minds - step up or step off - ya know? 5. I drank my dinner (I'll let you speculate on that one). 6. I want the new Black Eyed Peas album and I don't care what you think. 7. Same goes for the new Shakira album. 8. Have you seen her video ? 9. It's hot. 10. So is Alejandro Sanz. 11. No sólo de pan vive el hombre y no de excusas vivo yo. 12. Word to your mother! 13. My goal is to run a 10K by my birthday. 14. My calves hurt again. 15. I need to slow my ass down. 16. Ani D. 's new album is pretty kickass. 17. It reminds me of Suzanne Vega for some reason. 18. It's raining like a MF today. 19. It makes me sigh big. 20. I was supposed to do yoga today. 21. And a whole bunch of other stuff. 22. But I didn't. 23. Maybe I'll still do some yoga . 24. I'm all about the links for some reason tonight. 25. That's it. M

I've spent way too much time cracking up over this site . Now I have to go to bed. M

I gotta write. I gotta come here. I gotta say it. Gotta say somethin'. Make it real. Make it mine. Make use of this energy. Make use of this life. Do something before it's too late to do anything or be. I press my cheek against the window looking out at the rain and I realize that maybe my melancholy sense of longing is all I'll ever be. Maybe that's why I flail and float and hide and whisper and never make things happen or step out off the edge and look for the parachute in my backpack or figure out how to love or live right. Because what would happen if I could just name that thing the yearning ache thing in the chest just small and hollow enough to insert a probing fingertip into? What if I could put something in it and it would be sated and whole and at rest at long-god-damned-last? Then what would I do? Then where would I go? Then who and what and why and HOW dammit - how ... would I be? Anymore. M

So there's this scene in my favorite movie, The Fisher King, where Mercedes Ruehl's and Amanda Plummer's characters are having a tequila loosened chat about life and love, etc. And Amanda Plummer's character blurts out, "You know, I've never really been though a dating ... period." And Mercedes Ruehl responds, "It's a disgusting process; you haven't missed a thing ." And that's pretty much the entirety of my feeling on the matter at the moment. M