I have been in a little funk lately, tempered only by the occassional tryst with Pompadour. I become blinded by the champagne and drowned in the music.
The space in between is Anxiety. That birthday is looming and for the very first time in my life I have actually thought it would be pretty cool to have a little minnie Me. This tells me that aside from my general lack of self-esteem I must like myself somewhat and, hey, I might be kind of cool to hang out with. And I never wanted children before but lately I picture a little girl with Princess Leia buns on the side of her head and a shirt that says, "Anarchy in the Pre-K."
I don't know, the stars are not aligned or is this some pre-mid-life crisis? Am I going to go out and buy a PT Cruiser, carry a paisley duffle bag for a purse, and put ice cubes in my wine?
I'm the first to admit that my occassional dance with depression is rather self-indulgent, knowing this I guess keeps me sane. But I still have to muster up some charm for lunch with III tomorrow...
Friday, March 30, 2007
Friday, March 23, 2007
Panic! At The Blog
When I first set out to pen my little insipid drabble, very few knew about it. Slowly, I started to share with some of my friends and family - and still only some. Not because there is anything to hide. I just really don't think about it unless it comes up in conversation and then it's like: "Blog?" Blog!" "I blog" "Can I read it?" and then the address is forwarded.
Yet, I go back and forth. On one hand, I want lots of people to read but only if they play nice. Feelings hurt, ya'know. And on the other hand, I cringe at some of the things I write when I should just look back at it and shrug: Well, it was the 1960's, times were different, and we were all on drugs.
Luckily, I have always been careful not to say anything hurtful about anyone I know. Because when you walk into a bar and your friend says, "Hey! I've been enjoying your blog!" you panic just a little. Then you frantically go back and make sure nothing hurtful was said about anyone he may know. Then when you consider he is good friends with the Yukkell, well, then you cringe because some of the early shit is out there. Then, you squirm in your stilettos knowing that one of your Guy Pals - who you drink beer and watch sports with (sometimes in camoflauge sneakers) has access to some of your tragically hopeless inner-most thoughts (and fashion fixations, but you had to already know that, huh?).
Then after the paranoia settles, you think it's pretty cool that he is on board because, hello!, it's the Bear. Say hi to the Bear. The Bear is a cuddly little ilk. I mean, he impregnants people by just being in their presence! True story I mean if your idea of "true" is "not really." Sound people are of the mind that it takes two to tango (and cash).
Then it is even doubly good that he is in on Blog when you realize you can capitalize on the sheer comedian that the Bear is and the late-night trouble he gets himself into. His stories involve hospitals, the grocery store, bathrooms, "couples" therapy, oh to name a few. But I'm not spilling the beans, Bear! So perhaps he will oblige me an interview someday. Cause for celebrity. And I think I can hear the Bear chime in with: "It's a celebration!" But maybe he should say it 30 more times in 30 minutes just for nails-down-a-chalkboard effect! Ha!
I know I don't write anymore so maybe this is just for the crickets in the back.
Yet, I go back and forth. On one hand, I want lots of people to read but only if they play nice. Feelings hurt, ya'know. And on the other hand, I cringe at some of the things I write when I should just look back at it and shrug: Well, it was the 1960's, times were different, and we were all on drugs.
Luckily, I have always been careful not to say anything hurtful about anyone I know. Because when you walk into a bar and your friend says, "Hey! I've been enjoying your blog!" you panic just a little. Then you frantically go back and make sure nothing hurtful was said about anyone he may know. Then when you consider he is good friends with the Yukkell, well, then you cringe because some of the early shit is out there. Then, you squirm in your stilettos knowing that one of your Guy Pals - who you drink beer and watch sports with (sometimes in camoflauge sneakers) has access to some of your tragically hopeless inner-most thoughts (and fashion fixations, but you had to already know that, huh?).
Then after the paranoia settles, you think it's pretty cool that he is on board because, hello!, it's the Bear. Say hi to the Bear. The Bear is a cuddly little ilk. I mean, he impregnants people by just being in their presence! True story I mean if your idea of "true" is "not really." Sound people are of the mind that it takes two to tango (and cash).
Then it is even doubly good that he is in on Blog when you realize you can capitalize on the sheer comedian that the Bear is and the late-night trouble he gets himself into. His stories involve hospitals, the grocery store, bathrooms, "couples" therapy, oh to name a few. But I'm not spilling the beans, Bear! So perhaps he will oblige me an interview someday. Cause for celebrity. And I think I can hear the Bear chime in with: "It's a celebration!" But maybe he should say it 30 more times in 30 minutes just for nails-down-a-chalkboard effect! Ha!
I know I don't write anymore so maybe this is just for the crickets in the back.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Patheticicity
How did Friday night come to this?
Drinking a bottle - or two - of wine and cyberstalking and buying furniture online. I even rode out to Loehman's so I could pick up new pajamas for such a night. Well, I intended on finding some cute outfit but the only draw were leopard print pj bottoms and a pink tank-nightshirt.
So here I am...in all my leopard/pink glory, cruising the guys online.
Mav says I have given drunk dialing a whole new meaning.
Don't get me wrong...I looked forward to a night at home, playing with my new computer, fixing my blog, transfering music to the new computer, and cyber-stalking guys I don't know.
Drinking a bottle - or two - of wine and cyberstalking and buying furniture online. I even rode out to Loehman's so I could pick up new pajamas for such a night. Well, I intended on finding some cute outfit but the only draw were leopard print pj bottoms and a pink tank-nightshirt.
So here I am...in all my leopard/pink glory, cruising the guys online.
Mav says I have given drunk dialing a whole new meaning.
Don't get me wrong...I looked forward to a night at home, playing with my new computer, fixing my blog, transfering music to the new computer, and cyber-stalking guys I don't know.
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