So OK. I have no Hope. No crushes. No possibilities. No nothing. There was some Hope, briefly, in the form of Hallway Crushes and old friendships that seemed headed for something more, but I quit my job and that flirty friendship proved itself a spectacularly dead end, but it is OK because I DON’T WANT A FUCKING BOYFRIEND, HAVEN'T WE ESTABLISHED THAT ALREADY?

Oh sure it would be nice to have someone to warm me up on these cold rainy nights, but I have a friggin’ down comforter. I also have books, my most loyal bedtime companions, who don’t fart and don’t snore, and don’t wake you up with their squiggling around, and while they might not kiss you, they also don’t leave you until you are done with THEM.

Yeah, some hot s*x wouldn’t be so bad either, but uh, well, The Magic Wand is still cranking away after 12 years. It is making some funny noises lately, so let’s please hope I do not die in a vibrator-related accident (which I guess would be a fitting way for Breakup Babe to die, and better than some other deaths I could think of, but still). I would say I’ve gotten the most bang for my buck out of that thing than any other purchase I’ve ever made, HA HA HA.

Let’s see it would also be nice to have someone to talk me out of my neurotic moments but GalPal #1 is readily available by phone these days, and alcohol and peopl to hang out with are pretty easy to come by.

Plus, in my situation, you learn to appreciate the small things. Like devilishly handsome baristas who puts many hearts in the foam on your latte, and when he presents it to you says, “I’ve never seen so many hearts in one cup.” Whoo. I’m sure every woman who walks into that coffee shop is in love with that barista and I can SEE WHY. He should be aware that I tend to put cute baristas in novels, however.

Other good things. Male Yoga instructors. They are inevitably hot, and it is especially nice when they come around and make “adjustments” to you during your poses. The only unfortunate thing is when your workout garments smell horrible, which mine do most of the time because let’s say, washing my workout clothes is not my forte. Nor is taking a shower which may explain the lack of a boyfriend, not that I want one, but never mind about that…

So I’m going to Mexico on Thursday. It’s unlikely I’ll blog from there but you never know. I’ll probably be too busy getting a tan. Or something. It will nice to see sunshine again as the rain has been absolutely torrential and non-stop here. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I heart the rain. All’s I’m saying is it’ll be nice step outside in a teeny little bikiniand not a sweater jacket scarf hat gloves that takes me 15 minutes just to put on and off.

So if I don’t talk to you, have a good Thanksgiving. If my plane crashes, and I never talk to you again, well, I'm sure my family will publish all my old journals and those should keep you bored out of your mind for the next few years or until you forget about me, whichever comes first.

Xo
Rebecca