Oh dear Breakup Babies, don't seethe with jealousy! (Well, maybe do just a little.)



I am not sitting around on a chaise lounge feasting on the fact that I'm in "L;" in fact, it's quite the opposite. I'm pacing around wondering "Is this real? What have I gotten myself into?"



Because wasn't it just, oh, four days before he used the word that Indie Rock Dad (IRD) told me he was worried that he "wasn't in love with me?" That, in the past, when he was "in love," he always thought the object of his affections was "perfect," and he didn't think I was "perfect," and therefore, he was worried that (see above).



I haven't thought any of my lovers were perfect unless they ignored me. Let me wallow in my Air-Supply-fueled fantasies about them; maybe toyed with me once in a while, or had amazing s*x with me (and isn't the s*x always better when you're anxious?), then dropped me like a hot potato. Then I worshipped them endlessly.



But when someone really let me into their world? How could I think they were perfect then? They wanted me, for one. If I could get over that, well, there were all those little things. The ridiculous look they got on their faces during s*x. The loud snoring. The stupid jokes or the social handicaps or the complete lack of appreciation for foreign movies.



Because isn't love about truly knowing a person, in all their flawed glory, and accepting them?



I think IRD's got his head screwed on straighter than he thinks. But only time will tell. As we've said before, seething (but adorable, sexy, brilliant) mass of contradictions.



Note to self: must stop looking down mountain as climbing up. View much better up ahead.



Meanwhile, go on some dates for me, will ya? Have some raunchy one night stands, throw back a few tequila shots, flirt til you drop (or you're dropped like a hot potato)! Crushes are all about endless possiblity and love is about reality, so feast on the possibilities while you can, babies.



And speaking of mountains, if you don't hear from me til next week, it's cause I'm climbing a big a*s mountain called Mount Rainier. I might not make it down alive. If not, I heart you all and your many imperfections.



If so, well, I'll tell you about it. I can only hope that my rope leader is a hot babe.