Saturday, October 29, 2005

So I am in Boston in the bland hotel bar of the Hyatt Regency. To my dismay, they are playing muzak over the sound system and football on the TV and there is nary a hot guy to be seen. What did I expect from the Hyatt? Hmmph. At least I can look out at the Charles River.

Luckily, I am *mostly* too damn tired to care that the rest of the youngish world is out celebrating Halloween, including Dangerously Delightful Boy (as I have at last dubbed him), who is off at a party in Seattle with the five thousand attractive women he apparently works with, including his ex-girlfriend! Whatever. Clearly, I am so secure that it does not bother me one bit.

The real news of the day is I survived my six-hour flight, though we had to circle Logan airport for what seemed like hours before landing because of backed-up traffic or some such thing that I knew was really a THUNDERSTORM or something REALLY DANGEROUS down below.

Apparently it wasn’t, because we landed just fine after about a year and I’m still alive. Luckily the woman in the seat next to me was only about 2 feet tall, which made it easy to slip by her the 10 – and I kid you not – times I went to the bathroom during the flight.

So I’m here for a day to visit friends, then off to New York City, where I have I’ll be lunching up a storm. I get to meet my great editor for the first time, as well as some of the other people at Ballantine who will be involved in the publication of my book. I hope to impress them with my vivacious wit and charm so that they can do a really good job of selling Breakup Babe!

Now well. I guess I’ll go check out the cable in my hotel room, read a book, and go to bed. ‘Cause I’m cool like that.

Thursday, October 27, 2005

So no doubt SOMEONE has asked this question before, but is it really fair that only married people have to wear rings that signify their status?

For those of us who have not yet bought into the whole have-sex-with-the-same-person-for-the-rest-of-your-life=bliss phenomenon, there are many fine gradations of relationship status and/or emotional availability that remain completely invisible to us until we make fools of ourselves.

Here, forthwith, are a few other helpful accessories thatI suggest.

Married People - Yeah, keep your gold bands and stupid sparkly diamonds, ok? But do us a favor, WEAR your damn ring if you are married, OK? Unless, of course, you are a cute male rock star, in which case please take it off while you are on stage.

Recently Divorced People - A giant chain and padlock around your neck for which the key has been either temporarily misplaced or forever lost.

On the Rebound People - A string of Mardi Gras beads (which they can use to lasso their unsuspecting victims; however, if we are alerted to their status by the Mardi Gras beads, we won't be so unsuspecting, will we?).

Single but Emotionally Unavailable for Whatever Reason (pick one: I'm just not ready for a serious relationship; I have to get my life together before I can date anyone; I really need to focus on work right now ; I only like girls who aren't interested in me; I'm a manic-depressive, alcoholic, pot-smoking, as*hole) - A plastic tarantula ring from a bubble gum dispenser.

Completely 100% Emotionally Available, Just Like Me, No Issues, None Whatsoever: A choker with a bright red flower on it, wide open and in bloom. (In other words, the necklace I wear every day.)

I'm sure there is much that I'm missing here; please feel free to suggest your own status signifiers!

(Oh and I will be gallivanting about Boston and New York from October 29 through November 2, shaking hands and reveling in my status as soon-to-be-published-author girl so if you don't hear from me, that's why.)

XO
BB

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Oh wait, I forgot to include a few words from one of the most beautiful rock ballads ever written:

"Comes a time when you're driftin'
Comes a time when you settle down
Comes a light feelin's liftin
'Lift that baby right up off the ground"
-Neil Young

I am so drifting right now! I'm drifting and lifting and it's scary and exhilarating and sad all at once. Scary because I don't know where I'm going next. Will anyone buy my book? Will I manage to write a next book? (Is something wrong with me that I haven't started my next book?) Will I actually jet off to Patagonia as planned to lose myself in the windswept peaks and valleys of Torres del Paines?

Exhilarating because I could do almost anything I want. I could jet off to Argentina this very moment if I wanted to. Why, thanks to the payout from the recent Geeksoft class-action lawsuit, I am a gazillionaire! (OK, a gazthousandaire). There's nary a thing tethering me to this earth but a mortage and a job.

But that's just a little sad too, isn't it?

Moving on. While we're on the music theme, it IS true that my band' s first real gig is fast approaching. If you're anywhere near this bar on November 12, come on in and join the par-tay! I will be signing autographs and sleeping with cute groupies after the show.

In preparation for that, my carpool buddy and I sang songs all the way into work today. The Beatles. Neil Young. Hank Williams. The Carpenters. Captain and Tenille. Of course, we could never finish a single song or stay on key, but still - it was the most rockin'est way to start the day ever.

Monday, October 24, 2005

Good Lord! I spent all yesterday writing this maudlin piece-of-crap post about my life being in transition, BLAH BLAH, about yellow leaves on a forest floor, BLAH BLAH, about falling in the "rabbithole" of love and how you can never predict what will happen once you fall down it. Wow, how PROFOUND, Breakup Babe!! And that metaphor -- brilliant!

Then Blogger obliterated it when I *finally* tried to post it so I think think the Gods of the Internet are trying to tell me something. Which is, that I should stop trying to write anything, and let some of the great songwriters of our day tell you how I feel instead. So with that, a few choice song lyrics to communicate to you the oh-so-rich and varied tapestry of my overactive INNER LIFE this weekend.

And there's nothing short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.
-Johnny Cash

Sundays just f*cking suck sometimes.

Love feels good when it sits right down, puts its feet up on the table and it
Sends a bowl around.
-The Old 97s

Yeah but when was the last time that happened?

You were wrong when you said
Everything's gonna be alright.
-Built to Spill

Hmmph.

With so much drama in the L-B-C
It's kinda hard bein Snoop D-O-double-G
But I, somehow, some way
Keep comin up with funky ass shit like every single day
-The Gourds version of the Snoop Dogg classic.

Yeah bitches.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

So. Here I am. Better late than never, oui?

It has been an interesting week. Doors opening, closing, revolving; checks for thousands of dollars arriving in the mail (thank you class action lawsuit!). Sweet dreams, bad dreams, good kisses, yellow leaves on a forest floor.

I don't think I've ever started so many blog entries and not finished them. My brain is foggy today, the reasons for which I won't go into but I can't write a decent sentence to save my life.

There's so much I want to say too. All this loneliness and longing and hope and fear that's welling up in me, looking for place to go on this dark and rainy Sunday night.

Sundays are the days I most need someone or something to ground me. The day I most feel how alone I am, how free and weightless, and not tethered to this earth by much more than a mortgage. I was thrilled, not long ago, to discover Johnny Cash felt the same way:

"On a Sunday morning sidewalk, I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned. 'Cause there's something in a Sunday That makes a body feel alone. And there's nothing short a' dying That's half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleeping city sidewalk And Sunday morning coming down."

I am in a state of suspension. My book is done, and I am done - emotionally - with my job. A new book and new job will come along, but for now, I'm drifting.

I've recently met someone who makes me feel good, but there, too I feel suspended. It's been almost two months since we met, so we're at that two-month-turning point. The point where you either retreat to your corners or stay in that ring for a good long time.

I know I could stay in the ring with him for a while. I knew that from the first time I met him, which doesn't happen often with me. On most first dates, I can take 'em or leave 'em. It isn't until later they got their hooks in me. But he did it right away. He is cute and sexy; charming and smart; funny, and fun. The more time I spend around him, the more I fall under his spell. (And I can't even come up with an acronym for him, because I don't want to reduce him to a clever, oh-so-slightly demeaning phrase. So, in a radical departure from Breakup Babe protocol, we will call him, merely, E.).

I am so ready to let myself go there. To let myself tumble down the rabbithole of love. Because, damn, doesn't it feel good? Is there anything that feels better than to fall in love? Oh yeah, it sucks in the end, when everything goes to sh*t, and the more in love you fall, the worse you feel, and you think I am never EVER doing this again, and then you rebound like crazy, for three years maybe, dating the most ineligible, f*cked up people you can find, all the while pretending like you don't know why it didn't work out - for god's sake, you're 100% emotionally available, after all!

Yeah. Well.

Whether me make it past the two-month turning point, I don't know. I know if we do, it will feel much better than it does even now. But I haven't made it past that point in so long that I know not to dream about it too much - or at all.

The sad lesson we all learn at about 19 or 20 when we get our hearts ripped open is that things that feel amazing don't necessarily work out.

But that doesn't mean they don't, either.

Friday, October 14, 2005


Breakup Babe's Miscellaneous Fashion Notes


  • It is a great day when your arch-enemy wears very unflattering pants and you look like a s*x goddess.
  • On the days you look like a s*x goddess, you will not have a hot date.
  • Since you look like a s*x goddess most of the time, this could pose a problem.
  • Just kidding.
  • I received no less than six compliments on my over-the-knee pink-and-red-striped socks yesterday (that I was wearing with a miniskirt).
  • I would post a picture of my socks for you, but unfortunately, in that photo I am not wearing much else.
  • No I will not send you that photo.
  • If you want to see good photos, look at GalPal #2s Web site. She kindly lends me many cute clothes including the famous "make-out" cords.
  • Actually, they are not famous, I'm just saying that.
  • It's just that once I wore them to a party before which Sexy-Blue-Eyed Boy predicted I would "definitely make out with someone" because of the pants.
  • Lo and behold I did. He was cute too.
  • Maybe I should wear those cords more.
  • Then again, he was very flaky.
  • Maybe I shouldn't wear them any more.
  • Oh, whatever.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Boy, what is with me? I keep starting blog entries than not finishing them, meanwhile keeping all you people DESPERATELY AWAITING the next installment of family-friend BB!

So let’s see, what can I tell you that won’t get me in trouble? Not much, that’s for damn sure. I can tell you this: my life is family-friendly at the moment! There ain’t much that’s naughty going on around here unless you count wearing a dress that one needs to be taped into, and falling out of it discreetly a few times due to poor taping job.

Yeah, that’s kind of exciting, isn’t it? Let’s see I’ve been eating healthily and exercising a lot, and sleeping well, and – oh wait, scratch that. I have NOT been sleeping well. I have INSOMNIA lately, which is so unlike me! I usually sleep a solid nine hours a night, which is how I maintain my dewy youth.

Perhaps because I’ve been contemplating some *dramatic* life changes, which I can’t, of course, talk about. (And no, I don’t plan to become a man or a scientologist!) All I can say is I better start sleeping again soon, because I might start to look my age. (Which really isn’t that old? Is it?)

Meanwhile, the dangerous shopping spree appears to have stopped, though I’m no more “fulfilled” than I was before it started – I just ran out of money. Prospects for fulfillment are looking oh-so-marginally better since the (insert acronymn here because I haven't thought of a good one yet) has risen from his deathbed. Yet, due to various circumstances that have nothing to do with actual libidos (at least I don't think they do) we seem to be conducting a Victorian-era romance.

While this is far superior to say, jumping immediately into bed with someone only to realize three weeks later you have not a single word to say to each other (not that I have ever done such a thing, of course!) it is – however – a big tease to a lusty lass such as myself who is – I might add – a tad excitement-deprived right now.

Yes, dear readers, it is true. I am bored. BORED! Though I adore my life here in Seattle, it is time to SHAKE THINGS UP. Soon, of course, I’ll be a bestselling author with loads of groupies but that’s still months away. I gotta make some sh*t happen lest I remain a jaded cynic who just can’t get excited about anything anymore. I realize that being bored is a luxury and that I am supremely lucky for everything I have: health, happiness, book contract with major publishing house, cool condo, great friends, cushy job, good health, comfort, happiness, ease, and even the promise of s*x!

But I have my little plans for getting my joie de vivre back, don’t you worry. I am just not at liberty to discuss them quiet yet. Aren't I MYSTERIOUS?

Monday, October 10, 2005

The leaves are red; the sky is gray; the salmon are swimming and it's definitely fall. This season soothes and energizes me. Yet I'm not as calm as I imagined I'd be way back in summer.

That's because I've made a major realization about my life:

I'm bored.

That's right! It's time to shake things up a little around here. I've been routinebound for just a little too long now. Granted, there have been plenty of dramatic events, melodramatic relationships, and mini-adventures to keep me (mostly) entertained. Not to mention loads of disposable income to keep myself in sexy dresses and overpriced girdles.

There has also been my ongoing love affair with Seattle - that started the minute I arrived 13 years ago in my old '87 Honda Civic (aka the FEMA-cle) and continues to this day. Oh, the lakes and waterways! The mountains! The shady streets and dark coffee, the friendly fleece-clad people!

But even the most passionate love affairs grow stale at times and the two of us need a break. Not a very long one. Yet a break nonetheless - one that will involve me traveling to far-flung corners of the world so that I can come back and appreciate my home even more.

So. Anyone want to rent my condo for a few months? Complete with the Red Couch O' Love,(TM), a view of Elliot Bay, and a bevy of construction workers to wake you at 7:30 a.m. with their power tools?

Moving on. My insane shopping spree appears to have stopped for the moment, though not because I'm feeling any more *fulfilled,* if you know what I mean.

Sunday, October 9, 2005

A couple little factoids have jumped into relief recently:

1)Writing grounds me.
2)I am bored.

Let's start with #1. Having handed over my precious little book about two weeks ago, I have been suddenly faced with a void. No reason to get up in the morning. No raison d'etre. No two-hours of daily respite from the emotional rollercoaster that is the rest of my life.

Yes I am excited about getting published and becoming a famous, glamorous, sought-after, adored and bestselling author! But this is one of those situations, where I happen to really understand that it is about the journey. Writing every single day makes me happy. The millions upon millions of dollars I'll no doubt earn - well, it won't hurt. But it's the process of writing that really keeps me together and the thing I have to keep doing no matter what happens with this little book of mine.

OK, so the answer to this one is simple: I need a new project.

Moving on. Boredom. This one is harder to deal with. I have a great life, complete with snazzy condo, good health, close friends, supportive family, soon-to-be-published novel, and upcoming rock n'roll debut, and loads of disposable income.

Sunday, October 2, 2005

My love life has a been a bit, um, frustrating lately. Promising yet frustrating due to various factors outside my control. My patience is being tried. And remember - I don't have any patience!

But I'm trying to cultivate some. Impatience has caused me to make many a mistake in the past so I'm trying to channel my frustration into productive pursuits.

Like shopping.

In the last couple weeks, I've bought:

-a sexy orange dress (that got a hole in it on first wearing)
-a pair of brown textured tights (that got two runs in it on first wearing)
-a pair of tall, high-heeled brown boots that are really not that comfortable, but hey they were cheap
-a sexy backless, cleavage-baring dress that ate up half entire bonus. OK, only a quarter of it.
-a pair of "Spanxx" (special, girdle-like underwear for no panty lines and extra control) that ate another tenth of my bonus and goes up my b*tt crack
-a sexy pink nightgown (no damage yet but then again I haven't been getting much action)
-two pairs of sexy underwear on sale, one of which also goes up my b*tt crack but at least it was on sale
-a variety of other overpriced hosiery items, including two pairs of knee socks (hard to damage, thank God, but I'll probably lose them soon).

Today I am wearing my new dress with the hole in it and my new tights that have runs in it and that I couldn't seem to put on so that the "textured" part goes in the right direction - i.e. instead of going straight up and down, it is twisted every which way - along with my old scuffed boots because my new ones are really not comfortable enough for a Sunday schlumpfing around town in the rain.

You know, back to the whole s*x thing (and you weren't even aware we were talking about s*x were you ?), it's almost worse to have the promise of it, then to just have none of it whatsoever, you know what I mean?

ANYWAY. According to my horoscope, I'm an unstoppable force this month:

This month you'll have so many admirers, it will be crazy! If you could bottle your brand of charisma now, you'd be a millionaire! .. Single or attached, you'll soon feel adored and pampered.

Yeah, uh-uh. We'll see about that. At least I'm dressed for it, holes and runs and misbehaving underwear aside.