So last night I met a delightful boy but we all know I don't talk about my dates anymore so I can't provide any details.
(Sigh).
But of course part of me is trembling in fear, because even though I don't dish about boys anymore, the mere presence of a blog named Breakup Babe could (and has!) sen(d)(t) good prospects running for the hills. I, er, didn't happen to mention the blog last night but Mr. Google will tell him all he needs to know.
So if you see a cute and charming boy running as fast as he can towards Mt. Si - well, you know who it is.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Monday, August 29, 2005
Darlings,
For now, we are not going to discuss my FRIEND (friend!) the Man of Steel. I know you've got your panties all in a twist but just calm down OK?
The most important thing is, I survived, thanks to a raging river that was too scary for even the Man of Steel to cross. Or, rather, too scary for this *dog* to cross. If he'd asked me too, I would have forded it, and been swept away to certain death in the process. But lucky for me his dog has been a bit lame of late. Man of Steel worried the dog couldn't handle it. Therefore I did not have to make excuses on my own behaf but instead, agree, sympathetically, "Oh yes, this would be too hard for the dog."
We then hiked an easy trail to a pleasant lake, where we sunbathed and swam in complete Blue Lagoon-like isolation. It was all so much mellower than the original death march he had planned. The dog was rather relieved.
In other news, it could be that I'm emerging from my pre-midlife crisis or it could be that I've merely been distracted from it, but somehow in the last few days I've felt less horrible than I have the previous month. A little bit less like that takeout that time forgot and a little bit more like...me again.
Perhaps its because I'm getting out more. Now that I've finished my book, I can go away for the weekend without fearing that I won't meet my deadline. I can bike and hike and do all those things that make me feel good.
I'm still frightened as hell, don't get me wrong. I'm going through a major life transition in which I'm leaving a part of my life behind. That childhood self that wanted nothing more than to publish a novel. Well, now I've done it. So what's next?
I don't know. I have to finish saying bye-bye to the young, innocent me. And then, God only knows. A change is coming, I feel it in my bones, I just haven't figured it out. Yet.
For now, we are not going to discuss my FRIEND (friend!) the Man of Steel. I know you've got your panties all in a twist but just calm down OK?
The most important thing is, I survived, thanks to a raging river that was too scary for even the Man of Steel to cross. Or, rather, too scary for this *dog* to cross. If he'd asked me too, I would have forded it, and been swept away to certain death in the process. But lucky for me his dog has been a bit lame of late. Man of Steel worried the dog couldn't handle it. Therefore I did not have to make excuses on my own behaf but instead, agree, sympathetically, "Oh yes, this would be too hard for the dog."
We then hiked an easy trail to a pleasant lake, where we sunbathed and swam in complete Blue Lagoon-like isolation. It was all so much mellower than the original death march he had planned. The dog was rather relieved.
In other news, it could be that I'm emerging from my pre-midlife crisis or it could be that I've merely been distracted from it, but somehow in the last few days I've felt less horrible than I have the previous month. A little bit less like that takeout that time forgot and a little bit more like...me again.
Perhaps its because I'm getting out more. Now that I've finished my book, I can go away for the weekend without fearing that I won't meet my deadline. I can bike and hike and do all those things that make me feel good.
I'm still frightened as hell, don't get me wrong. I'm going through a major life transition in which I'm leaving a part of my life behind. That childhood self that wanted nothing more than to publish a novel. Well, now I've done it. So what's next?
I don't know. I have to finish saying bye-bye to the young, innocent me. And then, God only knows. A change is coming, I feel it in my bones, I just haven't figured it out. Yet.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
You know things are grim when you look forward to going to your chiropractor because he's cute and touches you and takes items of your clothing off.
Correction: he took my shoes off. But still. It was more items of clothing than anyone has removed in a while. In my waking life, that is. Too bad he's married. I mean, I know he wants me. How can he not? He even said to me today: "Your hair looks longer and darker than it did before."Now tell me, is it really appropriate for a chiropractor be making such comments to his female patients? God, what a flirt.
He's married. Of course. That is because every one is married. EVERY ONE do you hear me? It's those married ones that like me the best too. In my building is a married French man who I've had coffee with a few times (I didn't know he was married when he first asked me!) and who continues to look at me in the most adoring way even though I long since stopped having coffee with him because what was the point? Just because the French think it's all fine and dandy to have mistresses doesn't mean I want to be one!! Just the other day I had lunch with him though, because a girl needs some adoring gazes once in a while, OK?
In other news, I'm off to Bellingham this weekend where I'm going to be dragged into a trailless wilderness for two nights by a man of steel who is used to hiking miles alone with his dog and probably sleeps on a rock and doesn't need to eat or drink coffee to survive. If I never make it back, the married men of the world will mourn, I'm sure.
Correction: he took my shoes off. But still. It was more items of clothing than anyone has removed in a while. In my waking life, that is. Too bad he's married. I mean, I know he wants me. How can he not? He even said to me today: "Your hair looks longer and darker than it did before."Now tell me, is it really appropriate for a chiropractor be making such comments to his female patients? God, what a flirt.
He's married. Of course. That is because every one is married. EVERY ONE do you hear me? It's those married ones that like me the best too. In my building is a married French man who I've had coffee with a few times (I didn't know he was married when he first asked me!) and who continues to look at me in the most adoring way even though I long since stopped having coffee with him because what was the point? Just because the French think it's all fine and dandy to have mistresses doesn't mean I want to be one!! Just the other day I had lunch with him though, because a girl needs some adoring gazes once in a while, OK?
In other news, I'm off to Bellingham this weekend where I'm going to be dragged into a trailless wilderness for two nights by a man of steel who is used to hiking miles alone with his dog and probably sleeps on a rock and doesn't need to eat or drink coffee to survive. If I never make it back, the married men of the world will mourn, I'm sure.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
I yet live! I have returned from my biking vacation on the Canadian Gulf Islands, tanner and fitter after battling precipitious hills, massive banana slugs, and the many demons that are trying to take control of me now that I have temporarily sworn off the little pink pills and compulsive dating.
I almost ran off with 60-something yacht owner named "Cap'n Pinky" then came to my senses. We'll save that one for "Breakup Babe: The Nursing Home Years!"
Meanwhile, it's back to working on the revisions of my book and holding my breath til summer turns to fall and the light gets golden again.
Not that I don't try to love *every single day* that I am above the ground, mind you, and I wouldn't want to rush time forward, but still. Summer is hard work for me. It's hard to be a sensitive, melancholy artiste when the sun shines down and the pasty Seattleites all crawl out of their holes to revel in that strange thing known as light.
I do seem to be in a mourning period of sorts, having to do with 1)a cumulation of breakups 2)fulfilling my biggest childhood dream and 3)realizing I am now, actually, an adult - and not such a young one at that. I dreamt about my dad three nights in a row - a sure sign that I am sad and grieving.
But still, I'm doing my best. Look at me - going on vacation! Biking around in the sun! Jumping in the lake in my bike clothes! Eating ice cream! It's a tough job but someone's got to do it. And one day soon I'll be through this bittersweet little moment and ready for the next one.
Oh yeah, and one day very soon I'll be a published novelist. If only Dad could see me now.
xo
BB
I almost ran off with 60-something yacht owner named "Cap'n Pinky" then came to my senses. We'll save that one for "Breakup Babe: The Nursing Home Years!"
Meanwhile, it's back to working on the revisions of my book and holding my breath til summer turns to fall and the light gets golden again.
Not that I don't try to love *every single day* that I am above the ground, mind you, and I wouldn't want to rush time forward, but still. Summer is hard work for me. It's hard to be a sensitive, melancholy artiste when the sun shines down and the pasty Seattleites all crawl out of their holes to revel in that strange thing known as light.
I do seem to be in a mourning period of sorts, having to do with 1)a cumulation of breakups 2)fulfilling my biggest childhood dream and 3)realizing I am now, actually, an adult - and not such a young one at that. I dreamt about my dad three nights in a row - a sure sign that I am sad and grieving.
But still, I'm doing my best. Look at me - going on vacation! Biking around in the sun! Jumping in the lake in my bike clothes! Eating ice cream! It's a tough job but someone's got to do it. And one day soon I'll be through this bittersweet little moment and ready for the next one.
Oh yeah, and one day very soon I'll be a published novelist. If only Dad could see me now.
xo
BB
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Now that my archives are unavailable and you can no longer waste long work hours perusing them, I will remind you of something I wrote back in April.
"I have had such a surplus of [male attention] lately that , when it dries up, as it inevitably will, you're going to find me stealing televisions and ipods to pay for more. F*ck, I might even have to sell my greasy Inspiron and then there would we be?"
Oh I'm such a prophet! The problem is I can't sell my damn computer because even though I SAID I'm done with book I'm NOT really because now I have to go back and revise the WHOLE thing starting from Chapter ONE, which I wrote in 20 B.C.
I am going out to steal a television right NOW. Look for it on Craigslist shortly. That is, if I can escape my rehab facility.
p.s. If you don't hear from BB next week, it is because I am in solitary confinement after trying to escape the facility. (Either that or on vacation.)
"I have had such a surplus of [male attention] lately that , when it dries up, as it inevitably will, you're going to find me stealing televisions and ipods to pay for more. F*ck, I might even have to sell my greasy Inspiron and then there would we be?"
Oh I'm such a prophet! The problem is I can't sell my damn computer because even though I SAID I'm done with book I'm NOT really because now I have to go back and revise the WHOLE thing starting from Chapter ONE, which I wrote in 20 B.C.
I am going out to steal a television right NOW. Look for it on Craigslist shortly. That is, if I can escape my rehab facility.
p.s. If you don't hear from BB next week, it is because I am in solitary confinement after trying to escape the facility. (Either that or on vacation.)
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Speaking of birthdays, today is Breakup Babe's third birthday. Happy birthday, BB!
Who knew when you were born, in A. & J.'s sweltering upstairs bedroom, where they so kindly let me stay during the Great Unpleasantness, that you would have such an impact on my life!
Who could have guessed that you would provide such catharsis? That you would help me find readers around the world? And last not but not least that you would help me get a book deal with a major publishing house? I am so proud of you!
You've even tried to find mommy a boyfriend, though in the end you drive them away. But we won't dwell on that right now.
In other news, a special thanks goes to photographer extroardinaire GalPal #2 (without whose bossiness this blog might never have started) for drinking champagne with me last night and soon-be-famous novelist Odious Woman, for informing me that the correct answer to that most inane of questions, "How's your summer going?," is "F*ck you!" Oh, and to mom for being the one person I can still have a weeping fit around being without being embarrassed.
Who knew when you were born, in A. & J.'s sweltering upstairs bedroom, where they so kindly let me stay during the Great Unpleasantness, that you would have such an impact on my life!
Who could have guessed that you would provide such catharsis? That you would help me find readers around the world? And last not but not least that you would help me get a book deal with a major publishing house? I am so proud of you!
You've even tried to find mommy a boyfriend, though in the end you drive them away. But we won't dwell on that right now.
In other news, a special thanks goes to photographer extroardinaire GalPal #2 (without whose bossiness this blog might never have started) for drinking champagne with me last night and soon-be-famous novelist Odious Woman, for informing me that the correct answer to that most inane of questions, "How's your summer going?," is "F*ck you!" Oh, and to mom for being the one person I can still have a weeping fit around being without being embarrassed.
Tuesday, August 9, 2005
Monday, August 8, 2005
Good Lord, put BB in a car alone for a total of five hours, on only five hours of sleep, and too much country music to listen to and you've got a major pity party going on!
Have I mentioned that I am in serious funk? A mere four months ago, I was Miss-I-am-Everything-I-Have-Ever-Wanted-to-Be-in-My-Life (novelist, rock star, all-around hot babe)and now I am Miss-Lonelyhearts. Moping about all the time around everything.
Of course, I'm also in withdrawal from my serious boy addiction.
Have I mentioned that I am in serious funk? A mere four months ago, I was Miss-I-am-Everything-I-Have-Ever-Wanted-to-Be-in-My-Life (novelist, rock star, all-around hot babe)and now I am Miss-Lonelyhearts. Moping about all the time around everything.
Of course, I'm also in withdrawal from my serious boy addiction.
Wednesday, August 3, 2005
So yes, I am a few days behind on my book deadline, but what writer worth their salt gets a book in on time? Sheesh. And yes, I was out getting drunk the night before my deadline, but again - I ask you - what good writer wouldn't be?
Meanwhile, I need your suggestions. So I think you're all aware that I work at a megalithic software company in the Seattle area, oui? (And there is only one megalithic software company in the Seattle area.)
I have fictionalized aforementioned company in my novel, but have yet to come up with its fictional name. It can be humorous but should also be fairly realistic. You are a creative bunch so let me know if you have any sizzling ideas.
The winner gets my undying love (and a cocktail if I ever happen to hop on over to where you live).
Meanwhile, I need your suggestions. So I think you're all aware that I work at a megalithic software company in the Seattle area, oui? (And there is only one megalithic software company in the Seattle area.)
I have fictionalized aforementioned company in my novel, but have yet to come up with its fictional name. It can be humorous but should also be fairly realistic. You are a creative bunch so let me know if you have any sizzling ideas.
The winner gets my undying love (and a cocktail if I ever happen to hop on over to where you live).
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