Let’s get one thing straight. I am not giving up men! That would be like…I don’t know, insert your own creative metaphor here because I haven’t had enough f*cking coffee. (I haven’t given that up either, by the way, I’ve just drastically cut down).

I am simply taking a break from digging them up. Usually I’m out there in my clamdiggers, trowel in hand, unearthing them from dark, dank places from which they should probably never be removed.

I just temporarily put the trowel down, is all’s I’m saying. If some cute boy comes chasing after me, begging me to go on a date or get involved with him despite the fact that he’s oh, bitter, emotionally unavailable, too young, too old, insane, obnoxious, loutish, stonerish, bipolar, bisexual, hell, all he has to be is bipedal, I’ll probably say yes!

Does that clear things up for you? Just a little?

xo
BB

It has not been the easiest of weeks because I am trying to cut two major addictions in my life: men and coffee.

Now I don’t want to get rid of them completely. That would be ridiculous given that I like them so much. There is nothing better than a delicious cup of Peet’s coffee on a chilly morning when you are cranking out your bound-for-the-besteller-list novel. There is nothing better on a chilly night than a nice, big—um, ok, never mind.

The thing is, neither are that great for my health. Coffee is OK in moderation but once I start drinking more than one cup a day it has certain ill effects of which I shall not speak. So now, instead of the big, tall cup of strong drip coffee I have every morning, I’ve taken to drinking half milk, half coffee and then drinking fake coffee (yum!) or herbal tea the rest of the day. Whoo. Hoo.

As for men, well, one can’t live without them. But I can, at least for a brief while, try to tone down my hunger for them. So for one week, I am attempting not to flirt with/chase/ask my friends to set me up with/othwerwise make any overtures to any men. Of course, I always have a number of flirtations going on during any given moment of my single life. But they are usually Level II-III flirtations, meaning they are with ex-boyfriends or friends I am attracted to who I will never get involved with for one reason or another.

This doesn’t mean I cannot respond to overtures. I can – and will! I’m just not going out in search of any new meat. Men. I’ve got too many of them circulating in my head right now anyway.

One week. It's not so long, right? At the end of one week, perhaps I can renew my efforts for another week but for now I must have realistic goals. As a friend once told me, I would "flirt with a fencepost."

Mmm, fencepost.

So I think I am in training for my next novel. I have been writing every day, at least a thousand words. I get up early, drag myself out of bed, go through the motions, because I know that one day – soon – I will have found another story and will be writing for real again.

I don’t know, exactly, what I’m writing right now. I’ve got a situation, some characters, and some very, very bad dialogue. Actually I’ve got several different situations and several different characters and lots of very, very bad dialogue. And one day, one of them is going to be my next novel. Maybe all of them will be. Perhaps they will all merge into some delectable literary creation! More likely not they will all be discarded and deleted someday but for now they live their imperfect lives – falling in love with the wrong people, working in crappy jobs, dealing with their disapproving family.

The most important thing is, that like an athlete, I have finally started getting back in shape. Although I don’t yet know what marathon I’m going to be running, I know there is one in the near future. It would be easier, of course, to drag myself out of bed if I did have a more clearly defined goal. For example, if I already had a book contract in hand and a deadline, and a decent draft to work off. Instead I’m at that stage where I’m creating something out of nothing and all I can do is have faith it will go somewhere. Sometimes, if I’ve had a bad night (and lately I’m not sleeping well), I first sit down in front of that computer and feel despair.

I think, “What’s the point? All I’m doing is writing shit. It’s not even a real novel. It doesn’t have a real plot. It’s not funny, it’s not interesting, it’s not anything, I’m nothing but a poser hack loser nobody.” But then I drink some coffee and I start to write, and even if it is some of the worst writing in the world, it’s writing nonetheless and it takes me away to the Speical Place. And after I’ve written my 1000 words I feel better about everything (that is, until the caffeine wears off), and know that the workout has served its purpose. It has given me at least an hour in my day that's good. And it’s getting me in shape so I can get another book to you before the millenium is over.

xo
BB

OK. Since I am getting a million hits from Sam and the City, I'll put my maudlin summer posts back up. FOR NOW.

And since my author site seems to be down temporarily, check out ye old mighty Amazon.com to check out my book and read an excerpt that will HOOK YOU and not let you go.

xo
BB

BOOM!

I am cutting off ties with summer. I was getting whiny there as the seasons changed, but now – with one day to go! – I am ready to let that fluffiness go and drink in the swirling leaves, embracing darkness, and endless red-wine tinged possibilities of fall.

(If you are a new reader and feel desperate to see the archives, drop me a line and I *might* take pity on you. I might not. We’ll see. )

Buh-bye, summer. RIP.

xo
BB

This just in from the south! Christina from Charming but Single writes:

"I just got back from my some evening shopping at my local Barnes and Noble and your book was on my shopping list. I was about to comb through the section of paperback fiction looking for it, but I didn't have to -- because it was on the "Staff Recommends" shelf right in front of the section. Apparently I'm not the only one in town who reads your blog. Anyway, it was really cool. The recommendation card that says who recommended it and why wasn't up, but it was definitely front in center right when I got off of the escalator."

I just want to head down to that Barnes and Nobles and throw a big old party for them, complete with champagne and cupcakes.

xo Barnes and Noble in the south somewhere I heart you.

OK now it is ninety-million degrees and I just want to take off my turtleneck. Why must the weather be so fickle. I ask you, WHY? If you are going to start out rainy, STAY rainy. Why do you have to lead me on this way? You know how much I love rain, and. YET. You must love mocking me more. You love getting my hopes up and knocking them down and watching me sweat the day through in my stinky f*cking turtleneck while those who left the house at a more reasonable hour than SEVEN AM were able to wear the slinky tank top that is appropriate for this ridiculously sunny travesty of day.

Today I am wearing a turtleneck, thereby I officially declare it Fall.

(Alas, it is the same turtleneck I wore all through Patagonia. You know how it is when you go on a long trip and wear the same clothes all the time and then swear that once you get home you will never EVER wear that piece of clothing again? But you do it anyway because it is your only black turtleneck.)

It is still, officially, Rebecca Week until Tuesday but you know what? It was so not Rebecca Weekend. I was not perky. I was not happy. I was morose and glum and tear-splashed, certain that 1)I will hit old age alone and unloved (and wearing the same turtleneck until it is so crusted with food stains that the nursing home attendants will have to pry it off my body) 2)I will die a corporate wage slave 3) other stuff.

This is what happens when my Demons, Loneliness and Boredom get ahold of me. These desperate thoughts are also usually accompanied by stupid, weak actions. Call Boy X. Email Boy Y. Pretend that everything is just fine if I hang out with Boy Z.

The problem (a problem), I believe, is this. I went through that big(gish), sad, breakup in June and promptly proceeded to date my way effortlessly through the summer. The boys were just there. I didn’t have to deal with my feelings from the breakup. I just moved merrily along, but now that summer is fading like the flowery mirage it was, I gotta face facts. I still miss my ex. And I am fucking alone. Again. Forever. Until they pry the turtleneck shirt off me etc etc.

(The sad thing was, I got my hopes up about one of those summer flings. I started out so detached and carefree – like the wind! – only to end up feeling dangerously happy around this person. How could I have forgotten? HAPPINESS=DANGER).

Thusly I am just generally SAD, grieving over everyone and everything I have lost. Boys, earrings, that beautiful $300 dress I wore to my sister’s wedding (how the hell could I have lost a $300 dress?), my black cardigan, my pink, striped cap, youth and innocence, etc.

Maybe I will try to spend MONEY to make myself feel better. Too bad it doesn't buy love ha ha. Ha.

Xo
Rebecca

Rebecca Week continues! Today, while purchasing my coffee at 7:40 a.m. in preparation to write, fully dressed and blow-dried (I’ve become such a morning person that I now even fit showering into my routine!), a beautiful and fashionable young woman comes up to me and says excitedly, “Do you write books? Are you BREAKUPBABE?”

I nod, ever so modestly, because I am nothing if not a superstar who knows she owes it all to the fans, and she tells me who she is – we’ve already exchanged e-mail in which she told me how much she loved the book – then says “I recognized you from your picture! It’s an honor to meet you!”

Bonus! I actually look like my author picture today thanks to that bleary-eyed 20 f*cking minutes of blow-drying my f*cking hair, which has to be the most boring f*cking task on the planet but anyway, as if all that flattery weren’t enough, she then tells me how she tried to read “The Devil Wears Prada” after reading my book and thought it was complete CRAP. “You are so talented!” she says as she departs the coffee shop in an outfit much more stylish than mine but of course I didn’t care because she makes me feel like a goddess.

Ah yes. The fans. I do so love them. In other news, I had a fabulous time at the Salon of Shame the other night (note you can even see a picture of me in the montage on the web site), at which I read from the first novel I ever wrote, entitled “A Life to Love.” It is all about a girl named Lanna who loves horses – one in particular named Huggy Bear – but then gets in a horrible riding accident during which she gets bitten by a rattlesnake, awakes in the hospital to be told by her parents she’ll never ride again, almost dies, but then not only recovers but rides again AND her parents buy her Huggy Bear! The Salon of Shame featured the best audience any kind of performer could ever ask for, liquored up and ready to laugh at EVERYTHING.

Hmm, I wonder what flattering thing will befall me next during Rebecca Week?

OK! Thanks for the love, people. In continuing celebration of National Rebecca Week, here are some more Rebecca Raves.

you're book is soooo good! it's so different than any book i've r ead since, dare i say, Bridget Jones. it's chick-lit, but smarter. none of that Bergdorf Blondes bullshit. More melissa bank than plum sykes. anyway, it being Rachel Week and all, just thought i'd send you some props. You're the new wind beneath my words!
--from Sarah of Crazyvirgo

Brilliant job last night at Queen Anne Books. I'm glad I could make it. Your talk was lively, funny, and really captured the spirit of the book.
--from a coworker

I loved your book. I identified with your book, and it will go on my bookshelf with many of my other favourites! It was very reassuring in a time when I am searching to find my own way in this relationship world!
--from Tina of Life as a Single Parent

You are the most beautiful, intelligent, sexy, fun, and all around amazing woman I have ever met. Not to mention, you are adventurous as hell, independent, creative, affectionate. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else.
--from my imaginary boyfriend

In an effort to boost my currently-flagging morale, I herewith dub September 12th “Rebecca Day” and offer you some of the nicest things people have said to me recently or (not-so-recently.) Hell, I might make this whole f*cking week Rebecca week! If you've got anything to add about how great I am in, why chime in and maybe I'll quote you!

***Begin Rebecca Week Comments!!***Oooh, I love Rebecca!***

It was wonderful to see you again. I felt really good this morning, no doubt a result of your visit I always feel like the luckiest guy in the restaurant when we go out to eat!
-email from a friend

Last night I served the "Breakup Babe" (Rebecca Agiewich), who had a basil blueberry mojito and some tapas. She is just as pretty in person as her picture on her blog. :)
-from Two Cents & Frivolous Spending

-Your book was referred to me by Amazon.com when I requested other humorous books and I can't thank them enough. When you're not totally serious you are absoutely hysterical…Not to sound maudlin or anything, but my husband John passed away on April 8th - so very suddenly - and then you and your book came into my life. I needed you and God made sure I found you. It helps so much to laugh. You are a writter and a damn good one too!
-email from a reader

-I've read a lot of books in my time and I have to say, BB is the first book to ever make me cry. You have such a way with words. Can't wait till your next one!
-email from a reader

As an on again/off again fan of Ms. Agiewich's blog, I couldn't help picking up her book after hearing of her many promotional appearances all around the Northwest where she's been winning fans during Q&A with her real life wit and charm. With so much positive feedback circulating through local bookstores about the warmth and humility in her live appearances, my curiosity in the life of Breakup Babe was piqued once again!
--from an Amazon.com customer review

-You have magnificent breasts.
--Anonymous ex-boyfriend

***End Rebecca Week Comments!!***Oooh, I love Rebecca!***

Oh, and by the way, if you're looking for something fun to do tomorrow night, I'll be reading from something hideously embarrassing tomorrow night at The Salon of Shame. Come down, have a drink, and tell me how f*cking great I am. I need your love.

xo
Rebeccca

This has been quite the spring and summer. Let’s recap shall we? A quick list of events:

• Go on month-long trip to Patagonia.
  
• Quit job.
  
• Start new job.
  
• Become published author.
  
• Break up with boyfriend.
  
• Go on book tour.
  
• Date more than is good for me, trying to fill void.
  
• Try to refrain from sleeping with any of my summer boyfriends.
  
• Fail.
  
• Know it will come back to bite me in the a*s.
• Work my a*s off in new job (yes, the same a*s that is about to be bitten off).
  
• Learn to become “morning person” so as to write next novel (which has absolutely no plot and the whiniest protagonist ever, yes, even whinier than Rachel).
  
• Etc.

Phew. Is it any wonder I am tired? That I crave a beach vacation -- sun, sand, margaritas, a snorkel mask, and little tropical fishies?

Now that my favorite season is nearly here, perhaps I can relax. Slow down. Learn to be alone, as GalPal #3 is always telling me to do. As Sensible Girl is always telling Rachel to do in the novel. Unlike my protagonist, unfortunately, I have not been able to learn that lesson. A Gemini and an extrovert, I crave companionship all the time. It is my downfall.

WHATever. I am currently taking applications for companionship. If you are 1)male 2)smoke pot less than ten times a day and 3)are not so laden with emotional baggage that you are unable to move 4)willing to travel and climb mountains and perhaps support me one day, please apply within. As usual, a certificate of mental health will be required. (But, remember, I am easily bribed by compliments and caresses.).

xo
BB