...And Then Everything Went Horribly, Horribly Wrong

There is nothing like signing tax paperwork with your once and future EH to make a Thursday night really sing.

Seriously, I need to be kept away from children.

Though I will be babysitting - solo - for about an hour on Saturday morning. And afterward I'm going to Phoenix Gay Pride with Just Joe to support the local gay community. ...eh, actually, I'm going to ogle guys in Daisy Dukes and women with mullets. I'm not that deep, really. I'm there to gawk at big gay junk in rainbow speedos. Here's hoping.

In other news...I rambled on and on about myself to the EH. He is an excellent listener. I realized - among other things - that I am in a growth cycle. Some of it was forced upon me by my inimitable roommate - it's hard not be introspective when someone is misunderstanding/misinterpreting your actions on a semi-regular basis. I've been confronted with versions of myself that I have never been presented with before. Some of it is truth, some is fiction, but a vast majority of it is new to me b/c none of my friends prior have observed me so intimately or with so much expectation. It's a strange scenario. He's a handful. I'm thrilled to have the emotional closeness but I need my space, too.

Oh, poopie, now I'm rambling and cryptic and dull. I don't want to be dull! I want to be mysterious and fabulous, but girls in my shoes don't turn out that way unless they get up from their desks and hop a plane to Paris or Marrakesh. And I'm just not that boho.

However, my dream date is 35, tall, dark and funny. He'll be challenged by balancing his responsibilities with his aptitude for carousing and his love for live music - Good Live Music (re: bands I like, or could like). I want a guy who keeps his house clean and his mind dirty. And when we meet, he's going to greet me with a martini in one hand and a plane ticket in the other. Someplace domestic. For the weekend. I can't take that much time off work.

Dreamer. I'm a dreamer. A born romantic, too, no?

Oui.

But this CD is not one of them.

Notes to self: Keep Big Mouth Shut. Get out more with the girls. Watch less television. Find a fuck buddy. Fix my broke-down life.

But first...last night we watched a bit of the new Fabio “reality” show where buff dudes compete to be on the cover of a romance novel. Total Train Wreck! Bizarre, creepy, pointless. You would think I would love it but it was mostly just disturbing. Fabio has had a lot of plastic on his face and appears completely expressionless, like a long-haired Burt Reynolds. It’s not good. And it’s not like it was good before, so this is extra spooktacular. They gave all the guys bikini waxes and then made them “act seductive” in front of a panel of ugly romance novel fans – they gave them a bucket of cold water and the mandate to “show their behinds” and made them improv saucy ridonkulousness.

So: has anyone seen Wonder Showzen yet on mtv2? It makes life worth living. Telling you. In a few minutes I'm going to watch The Office with Steve Carell, who is a bizarre and hilarious human being. But I don't know...Wonder Showzen...it's hard to compete with something so twisted and brilliant. Genius, genius, that. Watch it, worship it, let it become a part of you. Oh yeah, it's like that.

I haven't felt like blogging in a long, long time. What's the point when life moves too quickly and the details I'd been sharing were piling up faster than I could contemplate them, much less report them? But lately I feel the need. Things are changing quickly and I've been remiss in my duties. Remiss in my writing, especially.

It's difficult when you don't have privacy. The Puppy moved into my house 5 weeks ago and life has been insane - been learning a lot about myself and spending an enormous amount of QT with a like-minded who makes me laugh and overall, very happy. My friends, however, do not have the warm fuzzies for the Puppy. They feel very strongly, in fact, that aligning myself with him - especially in a new city, as Portland is still on the map - is a huge mistake. I see their logic, but what drives me north pre-dates him and subsumes any influence he may have on my life. I just fucking wanna go.

I keep applying for jobs and getting these notes from employers about how they want to hire locally - "call us when you get here" is the main theme of their responses. I finally got that big interview in Portland - just last week - but I was there against someone's wishes and was not going to get that job no matter how hard I sold myself. Sucks. Was treated rudely in retrospect. Life. It's retarded.