Mystical Encouragement

Well, I'm still dragging ass, but today I feel a little more hopeful. Things seem to be pointing in a positive direction. For example I was able to find a housepainter who was willing to do me a solid and come this week so I can get my house refinanced. This was looking next to impossible last weekend. But the thing that I think is the most positive sign is a tiny yet unlikely stroke of luck. Last week I was sitting in a restaurant listening to a song that I really wanted to remember so I could download it. The trouble was, I had no idea what band it was, what the name of the song was, or even what any of the lyrics were. All I knew was that it was a somewhat obscure song -- at least to me -- from somewhere during the last 10 years. Lo and behold, yesterday when I was screwing around on the computer, without even looking, I happened upon the song (The W.A.N.D. by the Flaming Lips). I'm taking it as a sign that good things are going to start coming my way.

Which came first, the chicken or the egg

Reading back over various entries and assessing my mood this week, it's dawning on me that I appear to be a generally unhappy person. This kind of sucks. All my life I sort of thought of myself as unflappable and laid back. Now I'm starting to see that my seemingly cool exterior might be a veneer covering up a tortured individual. Today there is actually no question that I'm unhappy. (I'm still recovering from this weekend when MNB ended up getting to second base with his neighbor's big-titted 23 year old wife while I was sleeping in the next room.) I wonder though if my general willingness to stay with someone who is such an asshole, like my ex-husband before him, is because I'm just sad. Or, do I stay in a state of perpetual sadness because of my willingness to stay with someone who is such an asshole? Perhaps the world will never know.

Could this be the end of our unscrupulous heroine?

I've been feeling weird this weekend. This has sort of been my year of living dangerously. I think turning 40 and getting divorced sort of pushed me into hypermidlifecrisis mode. I've been less domestic than at any point in recent memory. I've been carousing more than at any point in the last 2 decades. I've been roaming around the country every chance I get. This weekend, however, I'm feeling exhausted and ready to settle down. Granted, this is probably a fleeting sentiment. I could easily end up doing drunken karaoke in parts unknown next weekend, but not if this malaise continues.

Maybe it's some sort of prehistoric instinct brought on by the falling leaves urging me to get the cave stocked & ready for the long winter months. Maybe it's my 40 year old body trying to tell me enough is enough. Maybe it's my dormant maturity finally fighting it's way to the surface again. Regardless, I can hardly wait to see whether this is a permanent state of mind (which would be a relief on some level) or just a passing phase.

the secret ingredient is love

I promise, I'm not going to write about about MNB. I'm thinking about him (because he just called to talk about how a couple of girls thought he looked like a lawyer today & bought him a couple of shots -- which he categorically refuses with me), but I'm not going to write about him.

I'm sitting in the cleanest room of my house (semi-productive Saturday) and I just finished watching "Forgetting Sarah Marshall," which I thought was very funny. I hate romantic comedies at this point in my life, but since this one had a break up involved, I didn't feel so alienated.

I also made a badass mixtape on mixwit. I called it "Time Freak." If you were sitting here with me, I'd make you try to figure out why I called it that. Since you're not, I'll give it away. All of the songs have either irregular time signatures or have something progressive going on time-wise. I'm sure the appreciation for this type of list is limited, but the secret ingredient is love, so it's a given that people will think it's delicious.

Somebody slap me

I think it would be great if I had a reset button like my modem. Sometimes I just feel like I need to be rebooted. Today, for example. It's Friday, the weather is p-e-r-f-e-c-t, and I'm staring a 3-day weekend in the face. However, none of these blessed events is registering with me. I'm walking around in what I sometimes call a "merciful fog." Most of the time, I could have shit raining down on me, but if it's sunny outside, the shit just rolls off while I'm smiling like someone in an Orbit Gum commercial. Somehow, it's not working today. Perhaps a little electroshock therapy is in order?

and she bunts...

I postponed my other rendezvous times 2 (what's the plural of rendezvous? rendezvouses?) & instead spent all weekend with MNB. It's so much easier to do what's familiar. There is, however, one of the two remaining potential suitors that I think might be a winner. He lives pretty far away, but not an unreasonable distance. I'm not ruling that one out yet. Oh, SF, the stalker I thought I'd deterred, is back on the scene. I started getting texts and calls from him again this week. One included most of the lyrics to, "I'm No Angel," by the Allman Brothers. That one filled up my stupid inbox. Then, Sunday, I got one around noon that asked if I was going to wish him a happy birthday. I didn't. So, I got a follow up about how "hardcore" it was that I wouldn't even send him birthday wishes. Hopefully he'll take the hint intended by the fact that I'm actively ignoring him. I'm starting to think he might actually be a little psycho. That would be typical. I've pretty much been a freak magnet my whole life. What's a girl to do?

Strike one

Okay. One down, two to go. The only thing is, after the first date this week, I'm not sure I want to go through with the others. I had really forgotten how weird it is to pretend to be interested in someone for a couple of hours when you knew after the first five minutes, it wasn't happenin'. The worst part of all was the awkward goodbye. After what seemed like a respectable time of making small talk, I was feeling the urge to sprint to my car, hop in, and put the ugliness behind me. But, instead I politely walked out with my date and when I did, it became apparent that he expected more than just a wave goodbye. So, after a few seconds of maneuvering, I effectively limited him to a one-armed, side-by-side hug. The guy was nice enough, but there was no way his face was getting anywhere near mine. I'm tellin' ya, it's rough out there.

Live fast, love hard, and don't let anyone else use your comb

An update on my efforts on the guy front. MNB continues to be his on again off again self and this weekend he excitedly told me that one of his local internet girlfriends recently broke up with her boyfriend and so now she's free to talk dirty to him, do webcam acrobatics, or whatever it is they do. I'm sure his master plan is to try to orchestrate a three way. My "what in the hell are you doing?" alarms were deafening. So, in response, I think I went a little overboard. I set up dates with 3 different guys for the 3 nights I'll be in town this week. Again, my "what in the hell are you doing?" alarms are sounding. Did I think I was the Fonz? Oh well, so many men, so little time.

front row seats to the end of the world

I just got back from DC. I was making hill visits during this inopportune time of complete economic chaos. In every office the phones were ringing nonstop with concerned citizens on the line passing along their opinions to their congressional delegates. As always, the staffers were dutifully tallying the opinions of their constituents so that their bosses would know what their voters think. However, as much as I believe in democracy, I hope that the senators and representatives really don't intend to rely on the opinions of the uninformed masses to decide how to vote. How many of these callers are economic experts? I'm willing to bet, not many. When it comes to decisions as monumental as this one, I hope that these guys have the good sense to rely on the expertise of people who actually understand the nuances and intricacies of our modern economy. Hold on your wallets, it's going to be a bumpy ride.

mixing drugs

It's Saturday after yet anoather exhausting week. I've been on the road all week with what I've been calling the circus, but was really a series of workshops for clients. So, I've had to paste a smile on my face most of the week and try not to get overly fed up the togetherness required when you're roaming the country with 10-20 colleagues. Not only was I dragging ass, but I've been trying to fend off the nagging depression that I can sense in the back of my psyche. Today, a bitchy call from my ex broke the levee, so to speak, & all of the sudden I was Hamlet's soul mate.


So, I gave up trying to do housework & sat down at the computer. Then, Everything is Wrong with Me introduced me to mixwit.com. Turns out posting playlists is the wonder drug. Although I've only got two mixes posted, it's easy to see the progression of my mood. The first one, aptly titled "melancholy," is self indulgent and a little depressing -- but still awesome. Making the second one, completely brought an end to my pity party. Now I'm smiling at the lizards and birds in my back yard, drinking a beer, dancing around the house, and complimenting myself on my impeccable, yet quirky taste in music. (I don't have the time to wait for someone else to give me accolades.)

looking for mr. goodbar

One of the things that's been on my to do list for a month or two is to add to my bullpen. Although I'm irrationally attached to MNB, his irrational unattachment often leaves me feeling less than blissful. So, in honor of his commitment to remaining uncommitted, I made the conscious decision to expand my options. Toward this end, I've been meeting some interesting guys. So far, my options are as follows: Bachelor number one - a self-employed internet entrepreneur with whom I have similar interests, but might be a little intense; Bachelor number two - a salesman who seems to like me, but might be a little too quick to become attached; Bachelor number three - a guy who I don't know as well, but hasn't tripped my creep radar yet. The other person I've met was my would be stalker. I'll call him SF.

SF lives in MNB's apartment complex and since MNB doesn't have a cell phone (did I mention his fear of commitment?), I gave SF my number so we could meet up with him one Saturday night. SF hung out with us as the proverbial third wheel that Saturday night. Totally innocent beginning, but from that night on, I started getting pretty constant calls and texts from him that became increasingly forward and creepy. When I'd stay with MNB, as soon as we'd turn out the lights, I'd get a good night (gnite) text, like he was watching the apartment. When I gave the excuse that I wasn't going to hang out with him because he is MNB's neighbor, he shot back that he didn't get the impression from MNB that there was a commitment. Can't argue with that. It became apparent that he was not one to take a hint, so my efforts to discourage him became more and more direct and now it appears I've finally shaken him off. However, before he agreed to leave me alone, he felt the need to advise me that I should "act boldly in matters of the heart." Although I'm generally uncertain about how boldly I should act, I'm not sure I want to take advice from a guy who overtly hits on his neighbor's sort-of-girlfriend.

Well, Jane, it just goes to show you...

The last two weeks have been one drama after another. I think most of my staff at work have confided some sort of earth shattering secret to me over the last several days. I know everyone's got something, but right now everyone seems to have something BIG. I was starting to feel like my insane ex, my financial disasters, and my new stalker (likely topic for a later blog) were a walk in the park compared to the things other people were dealing with. Then, last Thursday my doctor called. At 9:00 at night. He apparently didn't consider McCain's speech at the RNC must-see TV. I knew it couldn't be good news if my doctor was calling me at 9:00 at night. Some of what he said is definite, some is only potential. I'll know more after I go back in for another (painful?) test. I spent Friday in a daze, pretending to earn my salary. I spent this weekend being a completely self-indulgent infant, crying and drinking to excess. Finally, I think I've successfully added my health issues to the list of things I relegate to the back of my mind as I carry on with my life. To quote Rosanne Roseannadanna, it's always something.

It's all about me(me)

I'm not sure how I feel about the whole meme concept. I like the viral aspect, but in addition to having a weird name, they remind me of chain mail. There's not much I hate more than the irrational fear that because I didn't forward an e-mail to 20 friends I care about -- hell, I don't have 20 friends I care about! -- I'm susceptible to a potentially fatal streak of bad luck. That said, I'm a sucker for the meme's about music. The best 4 hours I remember having at work were spent completing an e-mail quiz that asked the reader to identify 20 songs from the 80's based on a couple lines of lyrics. So, it is in that spirit that I'm stealing another music-themed meme. This one I got from Sarah in the Suburbs. I totally don't expect you to read my answers. This is an exercise in narcissism.

If someone new were in your car, what song on your player would you be quickest to skip out of embarrassment? Any song by Weird Al (yeah, I've got more than one).

What song or songs is/are most “atypical” on your player? What Goes Around/Comes Around by (the unexplainably irresistable) Justin Timberlake.

What song(s) on your player turns you on? Closer by NIN

If you wanted to get a member of the opposite sex in the mood, what song would you program to come on when they are in the car? Depends on the guy. Most likely: See Previous.

What is the longest song on your player? That's a little tricky. I tried to sort by time, but I think the results are skewed by the strange affinity bands have for hidden tracks (I hate 'em). However, when I sort, Something In The Way by Nirvana comes in at just over 20 minutes.

What do you think is the silliest song on your player? Fresh Dog by MC Frontalot

What did you most recently add to your player? Just Like a Woman by Jeff Buckley

What did you most recently delete? I've got so much memory, I never delete.

What is your favorite song on your player that is from a movie? You Ain't Woman Enough to Take My Man by Loretta Lynn (Coal Miner's Daughter)

Is there a song on your player that is only there for someone else’s benefit? Tons. I have a whole playlist for my 3 year old. Her favorite is Put a Banana in Your Ear by Jason Steele (of the inexplicable youtube hit, Charlie the Unicorn)

What song or artist do you find yourself skipping most frequently and therefore should probably delete? Carrie Underwood - hands down.

What song would you least like to be playing when pulled over by law enforcement? It's Going to Be a Long Night, Ween (you gotta listen to the song) or maybe Gin and Juice by Snoop Dogg

What song most makes you want to smash stuff (in a good or a bad way)? You Oughtta Know, Alanis Morissette

What song makes you want to throw a drunken arm around a friend’s shoulders and sing? I Want You to Want Me, Cheap Trick or Hotel California, the Eagles

What song would you be most mortified to be caught singing aloud? One Bad Apple by the Osmonds

girl gone wild

It's Tuesday after a very long Labor Day weekend and I'm in a completely crappy mood. This weekend was weird and disturbing. Part of me blames changes in the barometric pressure caused by hurricane Gustav, but the more rational part of me blames alcohol. Just to give you an idea of how strange the weekend was, not one day went by that MNB and I weren't propositioned to participate in menage a trois -- once by a self-proclaimed Nazi. (We declined.)

As I try to merge back into my workweek, this weekend seems to have had a "Tears of a Clown" sort of quality. I feel like my fellow Labor Day revelers and I worked too hard at having fun in an effort to distract ourselves from the fact that we're not really happy. And now, with my nose back to the grindstone, the pathetic attempt at hedonism has left me with a mild case of depression. I know, I'm being dramatic. It's the kind of day that makes me feel real hatred for every happy person I see. So, to protect the more contented members of the community, I'm on self-imposed house arrest throwing things at the TV every time an e-Harmony commercial comes on.

Rock on

I've always loved to listen to music in just about every circumstance. Most of my life has been accompanied by an actual soundtrack. If I sit down to dinner and there's no music playing, I feel like there's something missing. If I'm going to sleep, I like to hear music. If I'm in the shower, I sing. I cannot imagine preferring to exercise, cook, or -- most of all -- drive without music. However, much to my surprise, I have found lately that there are actually people like that. I just don't get it. Some might say that I like to have a steady stream of sound because I don't like to be alone with my thoughts. I disagree. Instead, I think songs help me understand what I'm feeling. There have been so many times that I hear a song I've known my whole life, but never really "got" because I hadn't lived it yet. I guess there may be something Mary Poppin-esque about always wanting to whistle while I work, but if the bottomless carpetbag fits...

A gift that keeps on giving

My very caring and oft-divorced boss told me yesterday that I should celebrate the finality of my divorce with a commemorative gift to myself. He said that after one of his divorces he bought himself a set of napkins and placemats. He even went to the trouble of wrapping and opening the gift. A little too much trouble if you ask me. Anyway, the point is that every time he uses his napkins and placemats he says he remembers that time in his life when he made a tough choice to stand up for himself. Although I can't imagine I'd ever want to buy myself napkins and placemats -- who needs 'em? -- I am sort of intrigued thinking about what kind of gift I would choose for myself in light of this occasion. I'm guessing a vibrator is not exactly what he had in mind...

The guy of my dreams

I gotta say, I have a total crush on Anthony Bourdain. He's such a rock star. He's tall, lanky, punk-rock, cocky, and smartass. I love watching him roam the globe drinking, smoking, eating everything, and generally thumbing his nose at family values. I'm afraid that I'll never meet a guy who lives up to those high standards.

and now for something completely different...

Although this is basically a journal blog & so far not much of a social one, in the spirit of "now for something completely different" I'm going to do a "meme" that I saw on someone else's blog. Granted, this would make more sense if other people were reading my blog, but I'm going to do it anyway to keep myself from being completely boring & blogging about MNB again.

The meme (a term which I think I finally figured out) is that you take your ipod, put it on shuffle, and type out the 1st 4 lines of the 1st 20 songs that come up, regardless of how embarassing the song. The idea is that whoever read your songs tries to identify them through the opening lyrics. So, obviously it would make more sense to do this if someone else were reading this blog, but I'm going to do it anyway. Here we go:

1. Suppose I called you up tonight
And told you that I love you
And suppose I said I wanna come back home
And suppose I cried and said I think I finally learned my lesson

2. Little angels
Whisper softly
While my heart melts
For you and I'll see

3. We were drinking like the Irish
But we were drinking scotch
Bartender turned on a movie
Everybody turned to watch

4. Here we go, I'm hanging out in Camden
Drink with my girlfriends on a Saturday night
This guy says, "come and meet my girlfriend"
She's sitting in the corner looking rather uptight

5. Baby's in her hour of darkness.
Everything she feels is hopeless.
Disconnected from the dancehall.
Tripping on her heart of purple.

6. I can’t help my feelings;
I’ll go out of my mind.
These players come to get me
’Cause they’d like my behind.

7. Love was the egg
See and it was born in a cloud with silver lining
But it broke, I mean it hatched on the ground
So time flew right by me and while I...

8. If it happens again i`m leaving
I`ll pack my things and go
If it happens again
There`ll be no looking back

9. Everyday, everyday I have the blues
Ooh everyday, everyday I have the blues
When you see me worryin' baby, yeah it's you I hate to lose
Whoa nobody loves me, nobody seems to care

10.There's a mickie in the tastin' of disaster
In time [in time] you get faster
Harry Hippie is a waste as if he hasta procrastanatin'
Something moving in the brain of a doer

11. I don't want to introduce you to my friends, 'cause I think they'll get the wrong idea.
You're so fetching in that dress - They'll think we have messed around
And though I'll tell them otherwise, I was gone all night with you.
What most people do will be running through their heads.

12. I got nothing to lose
I saw the sun in may
I've got something to hold on to
I fell in love today

13. Look at me I'm fallin'
Off of a cliff now
I can still hear my mama yelling No No No
But the words mean nothing

14. Once upon a time, I had a little money.
Government burglars took it long
before I could mail it to you, but
You are the only one.

15. When I look up to the sky
I see your eyes, a funny kind of yellow
Rush home to bed, I soak my head
I see your face underneath my pillow

16. I've got ways to make you sorry
start my life with someone else
I've got ways to make you fall
I'll tell you all the things that I lied about

17. Bless the father bless the son
Cross your heart 'cause you're the one
Collectin' moon-beams in the mornin'
Curvy sticks and wooden poles

18.Bless the father bless the son
Cross your heart 'cause you're the one
Collectin' moon-beams in the mornin'
Curvy sticks and wooden poles

19. Yeh, yeh yeh yeh yeh
Uhm hmm hm hm
It's a wonderful night
You’ve gotta take it from me

20. We're gonna break out the hats and hooters
When Josie comes home
We're gonna rev up the motor scooters
When Josie comes home to stay

Another train analogy

Okay, last consecutive post on this topic, but indulge me once more. MNB was offended this morning when I referred to his contstant reminders that he's still on the market as "putting me in my place." In his mind, he's doing me a kindness every time he brings up how uncommitted we are because he thinks it will keep me from being hurt when he meets the girl of his dreams. The thing he doesn't understand is that I'll be hurt regardless. After repeated lectures on the topic, I'm not going to forget he's not "beholden to me." The thing is, I'm prepared to deal with the pain when I have to, but I don't want to suffer through a million reminders that it's coming. To me, a good analogy is that we all know we're going to die, but we don't ruin every day thinking about it. He seems to feel that if he keeps reminding me of the inevitable train wreck, he'll save me from that eventual pain. In reality, his constant reminders keep me from even enjoying the ride.

a butterfly - not a barnacle

My frustration of yesterday reinforces a fact of which I've always been aware. I need to diversify a little bit in the guy department. I think if I have a deeper bench I'll care a little less about the mixed signals I get from MNB. Easier said than done. Last night, during my foray into hanging out with girls, we walked into a bar in my town and I swear Ned Beatty was probably being forced to squeal like a pig somewhere in a back room. These are the people I've got to choose from??? It feels a little hopeless. Regardless, I'm going to redouble efforts so I can stop relying on the ever fickle MNB for all of my man needs.

GRRRR!!!!!

Today, for the first time in years and years I was going to meet (girl) friends for drinks. While I was married, every time I tried to participate in a "girls' night out" my husband would either find excuses to call me every fifteen minutes, or he'd actually show up and ruin my night. Needless to say, no one really wanted me around. So, I have been making an effort to reblaze trails that are way overgrown. Tonight I had convinced an old friend to give me another shot since I'm now out of control freak husband prison & we actually did meet up and have a rather anticlimactic time. The thing that makes me say "grrrr" is that the evening leading up to my less than monumental girl date SUCKED!!!! First my car broke down and I spent the first two or three hours of my evening replacing & recharging my car battery. Then, I went to visit MNB before meeting my friend. That started out okay, but as I was getting ready to leave, he started saying things like, "So you're going out tonight? I think I might go out & try to set something up. Do you think [insert names of girls from his apartment complex] will be at the bar across the street?" then "Are you jealous? What would you do if I actually had a date with someone else? That's a plausable situation." When I read those things, they actually sound worse than what he may have intended. I can't figure out if he was actually taunting me because he wanted me to stay with him or if he really does think that our "relationship" is such that it's appropriate to tell me that he's thinking about going out & gettin' some. Every other week he goes from being a person that I really want to be with to being an utter dick who makes me want to slash his tires. All I can say is @#$!#$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A little help?

Yesterday, my girls and I happened to be in the hometown of Robert Wadlow, who before his death was the tallest man in the world (8'11"). I'm a big dork who as a kid was fascinated by books and HBO specials about "very special people," so I couldn't leave the town without visiting all of the RW hotspots. His grave was easy to find, but when it came to finding his life-sized memorial statue, I had a little more trouble. I was driving around, my girls were getting impatient, and I decided I'd have to do something that goes completely against my nature -- stop and ask someone how to get there. I hate admitting I need help and have found that, contrary to popular stereotypes, I'm much less likely than a man to stop and ask for directions. (I need to learn to tap into my inner damsel in distress.) In the end, I bought a map rather than asking for directions. Although I'd like to say it was in the spirit of learning to fish instead of asking for dinner, it's really because I couldn't bring myself to admit I didn't know where I was. MNB never hesitates to ask for directions, which always amazes me. The ironic thing is, when it comes to really important things, he prides himself on being totally self-reliant and has even said he thinks people who pray are pussies because they're begging for help instead of taking care of business. I know he's wrong about that, but other than calling him on his hypocrisy, I don't have a lot of room to critize him, because he's better at asking for help than I am.

Born to be wild

Well, it's Monday and my uncharacteristic cheerfulness has finally dissipated. Actually it didn't last too far into the weekend. I had an okay weekend. Spent all of it with MNB, which was probably a little too much. By last night, I felt like the guest who wouldn't leave, but I was too tired to drive home, so I figured he could just deal with it. He'll have 7 days of solitude to get over it. We spent Saturday and Sunday visiting little places along the Missouri River. One of the more odd things we saw was a little Thai food cart right in amongst the river rats camped at a little landing. It was a sort of bizzare reminder of how small the world is. In my book, eating Pad Thai Noodles off of a styrofoam plate sure beats cooking hot dogs on a stick. Anyway, our little excursions reinforced my burning desire to buy a little camper to pull behind my minivan. I just imagine myself as a self-sufficient free spirit, going where the wind takes me, exploring the country and leaving a wake of broken hearts in my tracks. It could happen.

She's happy...too happy

I can hardly believe it, but I'm somewhat delirious again today. I c-a-n-n-o-t figure it out! I'm driving home for lunch today grinning like a stoner. Although I'm definitely enjoying it, it's making me a little suspicious. Several times right before I've gotten the stomach flu, I can remember sitting there thinking, "I've never felt so good in my life." Then, a couple hours later, I'm dry heaving and wishing I'd done a little more detail work last time I cleaned the toilet. For now, I'm going to try to assume that my unusual happiness is because I have a great life and is not a harbinger of bad things to come. I guess time will tell.

Life of a Swinger

What a difference a day makes. Yesterday morning I was staring out of my hotel room window all forlorn and morose. Today, the entire 2 hour drive home from the airport, I was downright giddy. Sounds a little bipolar, doesn't it? To what do I owe this sudden improvement in mood? I have no freakin' idea. Maybe my airplane experienced a sudden change in cabin pressure, but the masks didn't work inducing an oxygen deprived euphoria. I'm starting to come down a little, but I kid you not, I was driving home, singing at the top of my lungs and smiling at cows. Although I wish I could bottle whatever wizardry turned me goofy today, I'm not sure how long I'll be able to deal with such crazy mood swings. Honestly, 98-99% of the people who know me probably think I'm the most emotionless ice queen to walk the earth. Vulcans like me don't really know how to deal with human emotions.

Switching tracks?

I think MNB might be fatally frustrated with me. I've got to admit, I've been inexplicably moody the past few weeks. I think it has to do with me trying to come to terms with my new identity and mourn the loss of my old one. For 19 years I was one half of a married couple. Although I'm very glad to be away from my ex, sometimes things hit me wrong & I'm confusingly sad about not being married anymore. It's like I've been kicked out of club. I was at a comedy show last Friday and all of the jokes about the comedian's wife made me increasingly sad until I was actually crying -- not the intended effect, I'm sure.

Anyway, I think my confusing moods have led MNB to the conclusion that I'm either certifiably insane or just too much of a drag to endure. So, now I'm trying to run down the list of all the ways he's a jerk so that I can convince myself I'm better off without him. The fact that I'm 979 miles from home, sitting in a Manhattan hotel room overlooking Grand Central Station makes it a little easier. There's a song that says, "Nothing can cure your blues like a thousand miles." So, as I'm surrounded by trains, I'm trying to talk myself into to pulling that switch and heading down another set of tracks.

We can rebuild her...

I think I may have recently developed an addiction to self help books. Since my divorce, I've had a nagging feeling that I'm a good candidate for a psychological makeover. There's something so hopeful about titles like "Ten Days to Self Esteem," "Authentic Happiness," or "Awakening to Your Life's Purpose." Just imagine the super bionic psyche I'd have if all of these books actually worked their magic on me. Although I doubt I'll take the leap & put much of the advice into practice, on some level it just makes me feel better to think that some unknown author seems to have faith that the solution to all of my problems is out there and attainable.

Head East

It's China Week on the Travel Channel & I'm digging it. Since I don't have a passport or any money I travel vicariously through the Travel Channel. My butt has been glued to the couch all week. I feel a little guilty that I'm not out actually doing anything, but I can't think of anything I could do around here that is more interesting than seeing China.

I've recently made a sort of resolution, which I am famously horrible at keeping. Regardless, I'm trying to reach out a little more to try to build up my network of friends since I lost virtually all of my friends either through my marriage or through my divorce. It's sort of an experiment to see whether if I'm consciously a little more open, I'll be more successful in establishing relationships. However, I guess bunkering up all week watching the Travel Channel isn't doing too much to that end.

It was nice while it lasted

Well, I broke down & drank wine with my dinner tonight. Can't say I'm shocked. I think the thing I really need to stay away from is shots. That does it every time. Surely I can keep that resolution. How hard can that be?

I'm sitting alone at home tonight trying to convince myself that this is what I want to be doing. I'm beyond broke, feeling neglected by my not-boyfriend (who heretofore will be known as MNB), and am not really appreciating the solitude. Definitely had better evenings.

One for the ages

It's Monday morning after a somewhat lost weekend. I don't know what got into me. I think it was my midlife crisis resurfacing again, but Saturday night I partied like it was 1999 and spent most of Sunday regretting it. I think it's time for another "on the wagon" experiment. Okay, so you heard it here, folks, today will be day 2 of my newfound (and probably temporary) sobriety. I've been trying to lose about 10 -15 pounds all summer and staying off the hooch will probably help with that also. I'll keep you posted.

Is he "friends" with Dionne Warwick?

Is it me, or do guys sense when a girl is contemplating kicking them to the curb and then launch a counterattack? Seriously, for some reason, it seems like guys string you along just to the point where you've decided it's time to call it a day and then they turn up the charm long enough to keep you hooked. I'm afraid this might be common knowledge to everyone who's been "in the game" for a while, but because I've been married for 100 percent of my adult life - until now - I didn't ever pick up on the phenomenon. As usual, I'm wondering how okay it is for me to continue allowing myself to be played in this way. I still think I'm at the point where I'd rather have someone who thinks they're taking advantage of me than not have anyone at all. That sounds so pathetic, but I hope that the fact that I'm aware of the game makes it a little less insane.

There's a Fiona Apple song, "Shadowboxer" that seems germane to my dilemma. Part of the lyrics say:

...I just wanna say
Just in case I don't come through
I was on to every play
I just wanted you.

I think it might be even more pathetic to admit you know someone is taking advantage of your vulnerability and are still playing along. At least you're not ignorant...

Mr. Right Now

I'm a little conflicted about one of my "relationships." The conflict centers around whether or not its okay to keep doing what's convenient when it's pretty clear we've reached the point of spinning our wheels. I'm actually a little hung up on the guy - isn't that always the case? - but he's just keeping me around for company until someone better comes along, which is reinforced by his new myspace page that talks about, "I would like to meet a woman who is..." I'm trying to figure out whether I'm disrespecting myself by going along with it instead of telling him to hit the road. At times, it does make me feel fairly defective that this guy probably knows me better than anyone else & doesn't see anything there worth committing to. On the other hand, I'm getting something out of this too. I think I might be copping out, but in the end I think I'd rather spend some of my time with somebody than spend all of my time righteously alone.

Could you repeat that?

On the heels of a month of feeling distinctly loser-ish, I have to document an awesome moment. As I was walking out of Subway in my "house" clothes -- gym shorts & a tank top -- no make up, and without fixing my hair, a completely non-loser guy said as I walked by, "You are so beautiful." I swear, he didn't sound like he was being sarcastic. Granted, he could have been doing some social experiment or been acting on a dare, but I'm choosing to believe he was so swept away by my 40-year-old self that he couldn't help but proclaim his admiration.

Now, as I get ready to do the 40 minute drive to visit a male friend, who takes every opportunity to remind me that he has no interest in becoming more than a friend, I am feeling slightly less loser-ish. Thanks, dude.

Bouncing Back

I think I'm finally seeing the tail end of a two week self pity fest. Totally self-indulgent, I know. That's my prerogative, right? For some reason, my mind kept envisioning an endlessly miserable lonely future. I'm finally over myself (for now). Despite my moroseness, I've enjoyed hanging out with my kids. I have no idea how they turned out so well. Now I'm looking forward to my week of freedom. I miss not seeing them for an entire week, but this is the first time in my entire life that I have had days on end that I didn't have to base my schedule on the activities of 2 or 3 other people. It's completely surreal & I don't see myself ever taking it for granted. Here comes the sun..

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Friday night on the couch

It's Friday night & I've spent the better part of the evening sitting on my couch in my empty house. The more time I spend by myself, the less bummed out I am about it. I can't really figure out whether that means I'm becoming better adjusted or I'm becoming a hermit. I guess time will tell. I think it's probably a good thing that I'm spending some time by myself though because for a while there I felt like I was rapidly losing control. Everything was changing so fast & I was so unhappy & lonely that when I'd go out, it was almost like I was a college freshman who was just experiencing freedom & hadn't yet mastered the art of self regulation. I think the solitude is giving me a chance to rein myself in a little.

I keep thinking I need to find some creative endeavor to give me something to fill my hours. It would be a bonus if it involved being around other people so I hopefully won't turn into a crazy cat lady. I'll have to think about what that might be. Lord knows I have plenty of time to think.

The Ramones

I just got through drinking 3/4 of a bottle of Shiraz & watching "The Story of the Ramones." Somehow that combination of events inspired me to start a blog. Actually, it was probably more the fact that I watched the story of the frickin Ramones & didn't have anyone to talk to about it. I'm a little freaked out that the majority of these icons of my youth have all left this world. The dick -- Johnny, the sweet one -- Joey, and the adorable junkie -- Dee Dee. They weren't much older than me when they bought the farm. However, it seems like for their relatively few years, they lived enormously.

One of my fears has always been that I would live a life that "left something on the table" so I try to cram as many experiences as I can into the time that I have. But, I've never played music for thousands of people, been held hostage at gunpoint by Phil Spector, or inspired handfuls of marginally successful (yet brilliant) bands. The Ramones, as misunderstood as they were, rocked.