Monday, January 20, 2014

You're the best

I probably just ate half my weight in brownies, soaking in a warm bath for and hour and a half watching Breakfast at Tiffany's. Why is Holly so god-damned blind?! Paul is like the best thing for her. He cares about her and all her stupid quirky ways, all the stupid things she thinks a woman needs to do to get ahead in life.   Shit, it seems being a woman in the early 1900's didn't mean educating yourself, learning how to take care of yourself, teach yourself how to earn an income and love yourself. no, I think self-value in that era really meant finding a rich man who would take care of you so you could fuck and party and never have to lift your pretty little fingers.  And here is this penniless writer, who has nothing but his love to offer her, and she is so damn reluctant.  Fuck that chick.
     Great movie though.

To be honest, I should inform you that most days I begin writing an entry and often times don't finish for another week. I feel like I'm cheating in a way. Cheating myself for spacing the paragraphs with life, for allowing myself a pause between thoughts and the chance to really be sure of wanting to publish something onto the internet.  But, I suppose when it's all put together in a neat, nice little post, nobody but me will know.

and I suppose this will be it for tonight.


Tuesday, January 14, 2014

I couldn't even spell his name

Well I'm at it again. I told myself I would have the best run and work out when I got home.
                 But all I did was make dinner and now I'm sipping on a glass of sauvignon blanc.  I'm listening to a somewhat depressing mix of singer-songwriters with songs being played mostly on banjo and acoustic guitar with tunes ranging from the saddest of love songs to the seemingly happy-go-lucky diddles reminiscent of an irish dance hall.  The fiddles help.     And I suppose now, its kind of a waiting game. I mean, it seems like things might be lining up. I'm making a point of meeting new people and being social, and it's tricky, believe me.   It's just to easy most days to just stay in, to have a couple glasses by myself, watch a movie, play some music.  But I've figured in the end, it won't get easier if I keep doing the same thing.

Usually my titles relate to something that's happening in my life, or perhaps a song I'm in love with at the time. But I think today, I won't write to you about everything... except maybe this one thing that was pretty awesome and cute and fun.

Saturday night I decided to cook my friends a vegan dinner. Only one of them is animal-products free but I figure we would all be vegan for one evening. It took me quite awhile to prepare the meal, I'd guess close to and hour, maybe and hour and twenty minutes. JP and MP both brought wine over and ended up cleaning my dishes for me. (a really crappy job, but super nice of them anyway...)  We were slightly stumbling on what to do afterwards, and I hastily encouraged we go out for drinks. MP was suggesting somewhere super close, only about a five minute drive. But, I NEVER GO OUT! I didn't want to hit up some old bar five minutes from where I lived. nuh-huh. I needed to go closer to where I might get a really interesting beverage... somewhere I could potentially oggle some members of the opposite sex. and so we headed to Falconetti's on the Drive.                                                                                               NOW, let me get something straight. I  am single, AND that normally means I can act all "yea, fuck guys! I'll knit and make cards and run and drink all I want, 'cause I don't need NO MAN."     but ,                 to be honest...                          nothing beats good cuddle at the end of the day and the reassurance that there is someone who will drink beers with you mid-week and have underwear parties and watch old youtube videos and create stories that have no meaning from some stupid thing one of you made up and then make out until we pass out. yea.                                                                                                                                                                       That sounds really nice.  

So what do I do? I get drunk and hit on men. I don't even have the damn balls to ask for their numbers myself! GODDAMNIT! But I have the drunken nerve to hug them when leaving a party even though I hardly know them, and probably freak them the FUCK out.
 So I solicited my manfriend to help a sista out.... Yea. JP got me his number.          only time will tell if this bold move will pay off..... only time.