There is rain in the forecast for the next few days, so at least I have that going for me! Although on the news last night, they were forecasting even more freakishly sunny weather for next week - in the seventies! - which made me immediately want to jump on a plane to a rainy locale. Sheesh.
Ya know, I have to say, balmy weather would be easier to handle if there were a romantic prospect in the greater Seattle area - but even with all the bright light provided by TOO MUCH SUN - I don't freakin' see one.
You'd think that, now that I am surviving on a mere quarter-dose of my beloved Celexa, I would enjoy the SUN but no! Give me some stormy weather to match the moods that are currently making their way through my serotonin-starved synapses.
Despite the numerous weather and romance-related obstacles I currently face, progress is being (ever-so-slowly) made on The Book, and my rock-star career is shaping up too - having just gotten into a country-rock band! Yes, thank you, thank you! Don't look for us to be headinling the Tacoma Dome any time soon - but perhaps I'll be onstage at one of Seattle's great clubs someday. Or coffeehouses. Or food courts. Or streetcorners.
In any case, music is back in my life and I couldn't be happier, because we all know I need a backup career in case the bestselling author thing doesn't work out!
If only I didn't feel like the only person in the world without a significant other right now. (That ridiculous thought, my friends, is called a "cognitive distortion." It's clearly false but feels true.)
O, Celexa, where art thou?
Monday, February 28, 2005
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Well, like my friend Dating Dummy, who recently experienced very bad dating behavior on the part of a potential date, I DID TOO.
Not quite as bad, since his date was all planned, and she simply blew him off at the last minute.
My potential date called me on Wednesday night to ask me out for the weekend. Very nice, I thought, especially since last week he e-mailed me on Friday to ask me out for the weekend (three days after our blind date on Tuesday). Anyhoo, I'm a busy girl, as you can imagine, so I said sorry, weekend is busy, but I'd love to another time so give me a call and we can set something up.
Cool as you please. I wasn't about to get worked up over this boy, cute and smart as he was. I would let him pursue me, and if he didn't, fine. I've got a lot of books to read anyway!
So it was a pleasant surprise when he left that message Wednesday night, suggesting a possible outing for Friday night. But an unpleasant surprise, when, after I called and left him a message on Thursday, saying yes I'd love to go out Friday night - he did not return my call. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. On the off-off-chance he hadn't, um, heard his messages, I also shot him an e-mail yesterday morning asking what was up. No response.
Hello??? What is up with that? OK, if there was a death in the family or something, FINE. But gee whiz. Now I'm feeling rejected and it seems so unecessary. Why did he even call if he didn't want to go out with me in the first place?
Hmmph.
Not quite as bad, since his date was all planned, and she simply blew him off at the last minute.
My potential date called me on Wednesday night to ask me out for the weekend. Very nice, I thought, especially since last week he e-mailed me on Friday to ask me out for the weekend (three days after our blind date on Tuesday). Anyhoo, I'm a busy girl, as you can imagine, so I said sorry, weekend is busy, but I'd love to another time so give me a call and we can set something up.
Cool as you please. I wasn't about to get worked up over this boy, cute and smart as he was. I would let him pursue me, and if he didn't, fine. I've got a lot of books to read anyway!
So it was a pleasant surprise when he left that message Wednesday night, suggesting a possible outing for Friday night. But an unpleasant surprise, when, after I called and left him a message on Thursday, saying yes I'd love to go out Friday night - he did not return my call. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. On the off-off-chance he hadn't, um, heard his messages, I also shot him an e-mail yesterday morning asking what was up. No response.
Hello??? What is up with that? OK, if there was a death in the family or something, FINE. But gee whiz. Now I'm feeling rejected and it seems so unecessary. Why did he even call if he didn't want to go out with me in the first place?
Hmmph.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Here's what I'd like right now.
A little cabin somewhere rainy. Or even snowy. Where I could write and not be distracted by all this damn SUN! When I moved to Seattle, I did not sign up for SUN in the WINTER! Granted, it's better than that bullsh*t wishy-washy lightly overcast crap that usually prevails in the winter. But still.
I am a very restless person by nature, and I - grr - don't like - grr - to be inside when it's --- SUNNY! I want to be out climbing mountains and riding bikes and skiing but nooo.....Must. Work. Must. Write. Must. Have. No. Life.
El Nino is taking my weather and depositing it someone else. And I want to be there. With a fireplace, red wine, nice mountains nearby where I could exercise my HOT, CURVACEOUS BOD during the sunbreaks and a blisteringly sexy man who will leave me alone when I need to get my writing done, cook gourmet meals, and then provide a little creative inspiration when my work is done for the day.
Know of such a place?
A little cabin somewhere rainy. Or even snowy. Where I could write and not be distracted by all this damn SUN! When I moved to Seattle, I did not sign up for SUN in the WINTER! Granted, it's better than that bullsh*t wishy-washy lightly overcast crap that usually prevails in the winter. But still.
I am a very restless person by nature, and I - grr - don't like - grr - to be inside when it's --- SUNNY! I want to be out climbing mountains and riding bikes and skiing but nooo.....Must. Work. Must. Write. Must. Have. No. Life.
El Nino is taking my weather and depositing it someone else. And I want to be there. With a fireplace, red wine, nice mountains nearby where I could exercise my HOT, CURVACEOUS BOD during the sunbreaks and a blisteringly sexy man who will leave me alone when I need to get my writing done, cook gourmet meals, and then provide a little creative inspiration when my work is done for the day.
Know of such a place?
Monday, February 21, 2005
Boy. Why did I even TRY to get out of bed "early" today?
Maybe because I went to sleep at 10:30, one might think I could drag myself out of bed before 8:30, and then out of the house before nine, to get quality writing done before getting to work at 11 - but you'd be wrong!
After a trying morning that involved 1)attempting to drive downtown and park for free because I thought it was a "holiday" 2)doing a crappy and highly-involved parallel parking job in front of several impatient cars only to realize that parking wouldn't be free 3)driving to an area where I knew parking would be free but parking in a load zone first 4)accidentally ordering a decaf for my first cup of coffee 5)then staring at my computer screen in a catatonic stupor, trying to quell rising feelings of panic about the rapidly approaching due date of my book, I am now on my second cup of coffee, trying to rouse myself out of aformentioned stupor to enjoy the fact that I am 1)young(ish)! 2)successful(ish!) 3)getting paid to write a novel! 4)it is sunny outside and I am footloose and fancy free(ish) - minus the mortgage and the book deadline and the biological alarm clock that is about to go off.
I have not yet succeeded but hopefully I will before day's end.
In other news...there is no other news. Dating life - dead as a doornail. Which is how it should be at this point at time, as I concentrate every last ounce of energy into my Art. Then, by the time I finish my book, I will be old and withered and won't have to worry that men are just after me for my hot, curvaceous bod.
OH WAIT. MY BOOK IS DUE IN SIX MONTHS. Well, I'm sure I'll have a few more gray hairs by then. But I'll be sure to dye those f*ckers 'cause I gotta be ready to meet up with Jake and Johnny and all the stars who'll be dying to play the major love interest in the book.
THE MAJOR LOVE INTEREST? I thought the book was just about you making out with millions of guys, dumping them all, and ending up as a famous author?
I'll let you in on something. I don't know how the damn thing is gonna end. I'm thinking it all depends on what happens in my love life between now and the time I turn it in. I will say this: I would like there to be a major love interest. I would like there to be a happy ending. I even know who I would like it to be! Whether it's realistic, or possible, or a good idea - in the book, in life - I don't know. We'll just have to see, won't we?
Meanwhile, will this interminable work day ever end? I THINK NOT.
Maybe because I went to sleep at 10:30, one might think I could drag myself out of bed before 8:30, and then out of the house before nine, to get quality writing done before getting to work at 11 - but you'd be wrong!
After a trying morning that involved 1)attempting to drive downtown and park for free because I thought it was a "holiday" 2)doing a crappy and highly-involved parallel parking job in front of several impatient cars only to realize that parking wouldn't be free 3)driving to an area where I knew parking would be free but parking in a load zone first 4)accidentally ordering a decaf for my first cup of coffee 5)then staring at my computer screen in a catatonic stupor, trying to quell rising feelings of panic about the rapidly approaching due date of my book, I am now on my second cup of coffee, trying to rouse myself out of aformentioned stupor to enjoy the fact that I am 1)young(ish)! 2)successful(ish!) 3)getting paid to write a novel! 4)it is sunny outside and I am footloose and fancy free(ish) - minus the mortgage and the book deadline and the biological alarm clock that is about to go off.
I have not yet succeeded but hopefully I will before day's end.
In other news...there is no other news. Dating life - dead as a doornail. Which is how it should be at this point at time, as I concentrate every last ounce of energy into my Art. Then, by the time I finish my book, I will be old and withered and won't have to worry that men are just after me for my hot, curvaceous bod.
OH WAIT. MY BOOK IS DUE IN SIX MONTHS. Well, I'm sure I'll have a few more gray hairs by then. But I'll be sure to dye those f*ckers 'cause I gotta be ready to meet up with Jake and Johnny and all the stars who'll be dying to play the major love interest in the book.
THE MAJOR LOVE INTEREST? I thought the book was just about you making out with millions of guys, dumping them all, and ending up as a famous author?
I'll let you in on something. I don't know how the damn thing is gonna end. I'm thinking it all depends on what happens in my love life between now and the time I turn it in. I will say this: I would like there to be a major love interest. I would like there to be a happy ending. I even know who I would like it to be! Whether it's realistic, or possible, or a good idea - in the book, in life - I don't know. We'll just have to see, won't we?
Meanwhile, will this interminable work day ever end? I THINK NOT.
Friday, February 18, 2005
I have only just dipped my little toe back into the dating waters this week.
It was cold and scary and made me want to get back into my bed with my book. A book is always there in your bed, right where you left it the night before. You don't have to wait for it to call. It doesn't snore.
On the other hand, it isn't tall and blonde with a nice bod, broad shoulders, a good job and a sexy-a*s smile either.
If only.
It was cold and scary and made me want to get back into my bed with my book. A book is always there in your bed, right where you left it the night before. You don't have to wait for it to call. It doesn't snore.
On the other hand, it isn't tall and blonde with a nice bod, broad shoulders, a good job and a sexy-a*s smile either.
If only.
Monday, February 14, 2005
Well! That was a long month and a half! I have just wrapped up chapters 11 through 15 of my book and am about to send them off to my editor.
As empires were built, babies were born, wars were fought, marriages dissolved, I obsessed about just the right way to describe my first date with The Doctor and how to portray my ambivalence over the Li’l Rockclimbing Spy. Remember those oldies but goodies?
Yes! That is my life. It’s not a bad life, really. Because when I get lonely in the morning, as I often do these days, I just plunge back into my fictionalized world and there are all my old friends – and enemies! Sexy Boy, but portrayed as a dashing pilot! GalPal #3, portrayed as an award-winning research scientist! GalPal #1 in all her wavy-haired, White-Linen-smelling glory! And certain other people, who I can make as badly-dressed, overweight, and as psychotic as I choose!
As long as the words flow from my pen (so to speak), I am the master of the universe. I make wrong things right. I make messy packages neater. I choose who gets to be in my story, finding that people who were there for me once and aren’t any longer don’t make the cut . Flakes don’t get much sympathy from the ruthless editor in me.
As you know, for a full month of that month and a half, I have – gasp! – not had a boyfriend! Instead, as I mull over my recent misadventures in love, and try to feel lonely without feeling afraid, I have had books. Which have been my friends since I was little and will be my friends until such time as I no longer have eyes that can see (or, if worse comes to worse, ears that can hear).
If I get lonely in the evening, as I often do, it disappears when I crawl into bed with a book. Fictional worlds that it took other authors years to create, I tear through in weeks or days. I mingle with hermaphrodites in the 70s, alcoholics in the 90s, Dutch servant girls in the 1600s. The better the writing, the more I feel the texture of the worlds, and the less lonely I am.
Then I go to sleep, wake up the next morning, and start all over.
Write
Hope
Work
Fear
Read
Hope
Sleep
Repeat.
As empires were built, babies were born, wars were fought, marriages dissolved, I obsessed about just the right way to describe my first date with The Doctor and how to portray my ambivalence over the Li’l Rockclimbing Spy. Remember those oldies but goodies?
Yes! That is my life. It’s not a bad life, really. Because when I get lonely in the morning, as I often do these days, I just plunge back into my fictionalized world and there are all my old friends – and enemies! Sexy Boy, but portrayed as a dashing pilot! GalPal #3, portrayed as an award-winning research scientist! GalPal #1 in all her wavy-haired, White-Linen-smelling glory! And certain other people, who I can make as badly-dressed, overweight, and as psychotic as I choose!
As long as the words flow from my pen (so to speak), I am the master of the universe. I make wrong things right. I make messy packages neater. I choose who gets to be in my story, finding that people who were there for me once and aren’t any longer don’t make the cut . Flakes don’t get much sympathy from the ruthless editor in me.
As you know, for a full month of that month and a half, I have – gasp! – not had a boyfriend! Instead, as I mull over my recent misadventures in love, and try to feel lonely without feeling afraid, I have had books. Which have been my friends since I was little and will be my friends until such time as I no longer have eyes that can see (or, if worse comes to worse, ears that can hear).
If I get lonely in the evening, as I often do, it disappears when I crawl into bed with a book. Fictional worlds that it took other authors years to create, I tear through in weeks or days. I mingle with hermaphrodites in the 70s, alcoholics in the 90s, Dutch servant girls in the 1600s. The better the writing, the more I feel the texture of the worlds, and the less lonely I am.
Then I go to sleep, wake up the next morning, and start all over.
Write
Hope
Work
Fear
Read
Hope
Sleep
Repeat.
Sunday, February 6, 2005
All right, damn it. Enough is enough. It's been three whole weeks since I've had a boyfriend. It's not right, I tell you! This fine, ripe body is wasting away like a piece of perfect fruit soon to be past its prime!
I want someone to cuddle with! I want someone to come home to after a nine-mile hike through the snow and a two-hour drive in the rain! I want someone to massage my shoulders and tell me what a great writer I am and how all this hard work is going to pay off! I want someone to wake up with sometimes. And, of course, I want someone to rock me all night long.
But it's another quiet night alone here in the Queen Anne homestead. Pure, clean, lonely silence. A big, empty bed. And another night of restless dreams ahead of me.
The first round of set-ups has started, however. Oh, BB - you gotta meet this guy. Oh BB, you gotta meet that guy! Meet my math professor! My coworker! My mother's cousin's gastroenterologist! And you know what I say to that?
Bring. It. On.
(And if one single person tells me how I need to "take time to myself" or "stop looking so hard," I swear to God I will personally have you hunted down and killed.)
Goodnight all.
Love,
BB
I want someone to cuddle with! I want someone to come home to after a nine-mile hike through the snow and a two-hour drive in the rain! I want someone to massage my shoulders and tell me what a great writer I am and how all this hard work is going to pay off! I want someone to wake up with sometimes. And, of course, I want someone to rock me all night long.
But it's another quiet night alone here in the Queen Anne homestead. Pure, clean, lonely silence. A big, empty bed. And another night of restless dreams ahead of me.
The first round of set-ups has started, however. Oh, BB - you gotta meet this guy. Oh BB, you gotta meet that guy! Meet my math professor! My coworker! My mother's cousin's gastroenterologist! And you know what I say to that?
Bring. It. On.
(And if one single person tells me how I need to "take time to myself" or "stop looking so hard," I swear to God I will personally have you hunted down and killed.)
Goodnight all.
Love,
BB
Tuesday, February 1, 2005
Can I just say, while we're on this topic, that I love sleeping alone! Bed - all to myself! Covers - all to myself! Reading - as long as I want! Noise - none, except for any I might make! Waking up - whenever I want!
In fact, when I finally find a man worthy of me, we are going to have separate bedrooms that we can retire to when we so choose, or perhaps even separate houses. A duplex might be the best answer. YOU THINK I'M KIDDING?
Anyway. I have lots of negative things to say about the male of the species right now, but why dwell on that? I am so fabulously successful and hot and stylish and witty and popular that I can afford to be generous right now to all the poor schlubs out there who call themselves "men."
So here's what I'm gonna do. I'm going to compile a list of everything that I - Seattle's most eligible bachelorette! - is looking for in a man, culled from all the best qualities that my various boyfriends* have had. Bonus points if you can guess which qualities belong to which boyfriends.
In fact, when I finally find a man worthy of me, we are going to have separate bedrooms that we can retire to when we so choose, or perhaps even separate houses. A duplex might be the best answer. YOU THINK I'M KIDDING?
Anyway. I have lots of negative things to say about the male of the species right now, but why dwell on that? I am so fabulously successful and hot and stylish and witty and popular that I can afford to be generous right now to all the poor schlubs out there who call themselves "men."
So here's what I'm gonna do. I'm going to compile a list of everything that I - Seattle's most eligible bachelorette! - is looking for in a man, culled from all the best qualities that my various boyfriends* have had. Bonus points if you can guess which qualities belong to which boyfriends.
OK, now is that so much to ask? DON'T ANSWER. This is my list - no snide comments please!
(Though, as always, all other comments are welcome.)
Interested applicants can apply within, along with three references from previous girlfriends and certificate of health from a psychiatrist.
*Boyfriend=we dated for more than two hours
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