the cheese stands alone.

it's hot.

Jun 8, 2008
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93 degrees, to be exact. and I'm currently posting this, mostly naked and in front of a high-powered fan, until my A/C arrives later this evening.

There's a heat wave in the city (I like how "heat wave" sounds like "crime wave"--instead of being a series of hit and runs, it's one big incapacitating smack in the face that sits on your torso until its work is done).

Have you ever seen a lizard on a hot day remain perfectly still, in suspended animation, so as not to allow what little energy it has escape and succumb to the heat? That's what I'm feeling--physically (and quite literally, at the moment), but I'm also figuratively falling into a state of inertia while everyone else around me dances like molecules over a heat source.

I'm feeling isolated as I ever was. It doesn't feel like enough to be the person who inserts herself into every activity (nor do I want to be that person, because then people only call you out of obligation). I want someone to want to drag me out of the stagnant heat. I know that sounds selfish and lazy, but don't we all wish there were someone tugging our arm and pushing us out to the cool water?

Anyway (not to get all Carrie up in this piece) I guess part of the reason is that I've never been single in the summer (I know, that sounds terrible), at least not since I've been "dating." Is that my fault or the universe's? I'm not sure, but I'm used to having someone's sticky hand in mine while we search for an air-conditioned brunch spot in the city.

I know that's not terribly progressive, but things fall as they do, and (as a result) I don't know what to do with myself now that I am flying solo and it's hot outside. I'm not saying I want to be in a relationship for the sake of it (commitment issues!), but...eh, I don't know what I'm getting at.

Anyway, here I sit, under my leaf, waiting for the heat to pass. Only three more months.

xoxo

Apr 25, 2008
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the Gossip Girl boys

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I realize that Gossip Girl is a high school-based series and that I should find better things with which to compare my lot, but I’m a pathetic stan of the show and I can’t help thinking that the three male leads reflect the inherent problems with my very adult love life. (Plus, those kids at seventeen have much more lavish lives than I will ever have...even Dan's loft in the Burg--which is actually located in DUMBO--is waaaay nicer than mine.)

I am viscerally attracted to The Chuck, who is self-centered, arrogant, and hypersexual (which is not a bad thing, but really sucks when coupled with the former two qualities). I’m fully aware that a relationship will never last with him, but I never remove his number from my phone list, and I always answer when he calls (which is once in a blue moon, after he’s made the rounds and circled back to me).

I am not immediately attracted to the Dan, although he’s the type that usually fancies me (if anyone). Dan is a Mary Poppins—practically perfect in every way (where was he when I was in high school?). He’s sensitive, cultured, and probably has only had one or two serious girlfriends…ever. It’s not that I’m capable of caring for a Dan type. It just takes me a while to click.

I need a Nate. Pretty (but not too pretty) looks help; personality-wise, I need someone who’s a mixture of well-dressed cad and jeans-and-T-shirt-puppyface-best-boy-friend.

Now: which of these fellas is gay?

three word entries, part IV: the onset of higher temperatures in NYC

Apr 24, 2008
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hot garbage smell.

peanut butter

Apr 24, 2008
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I like crunchy peanut butter. I've been eating it for a while now. Even though I can no longer find the particular brand I used to enjoy, I've grown accustomed to the generic brand. I'll even go so far to say that the flavor of the generic crunchy peanut butter seems to go well with strawberry jam. I savor it because I don't get to eat it as often--maybe that's why the taste is better.

But the problem with peanut butter is that you always need something to wash it down. You know how you have a full glass of milk, and you ration it so that you have a gulp for each bite, thereby perfecting the stickiness-to-refreshing-wash-down ratio? Sometimes you misjudge the gulps and you don't have quite enough milk, or sometimes you forget that the last bite of peanut butter needs extra milk--you find yourself yearning for one last swallow. So you have to fill up a glass of milk to satisfy your thirst, but you have no more peanut butter. And sometimes even when you've gotten your fill of the sticky stuff, the resulting lump in your throat is difficult to get rid of.

But I still want the peanut butter. I just have to make sure the milk doesn't run out.

Maybe you've gathered that this is not necessarily about peanut butter.

three word entries, part III: doing it up the a'*

Apr 7, 2008
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He's buying dinner.

*I borrowed this saying from my Canadian roommate. It means "bum sex," which I also borrowed from her.

closure rhymes with poseur (if you pronounce it the french way)

Apr 7, 2008
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Right now I'm trying to come to terms with A Certain Event* that happened a while ago. The realization that I was not to blame for what happened, regardless of exercising my "free will," is a concept I simply can't wrap my head around.

I'm not sure that I'll ever close the book on this one, though. I don't like the idea of "closure." It's not something I can shut off from myself. All that has happened to me (and all that I've made happen)--everything is integral to who I am today. I have flaws and misgivings and idiosyncrasies, and for me to "close" things off will change who I am. I think (to some degree) I'm always going to be the girl with the ruminant, faraway, slightly sad expression. People like me need to balance the cheerful Nancys of the world.

Does this mean I'm afraid to be happy? Possibly. I've been content before (as I am now), but never in a state of sublimity (I'd like to meet the person who has). So the idea of feeling completely and totally whole freaks me out a bit, and I'm still working at ways to turn the trash into treasure (i.e. coming to terms with what I don't like or things by which I feel/felt damaged).

My first step will be to buy Louboutin Pigalles in red.

*The Certain Event can be inquired about if one so desires, but I can't guarantee that I'll answer.

blowing my mind, part III

Apr 3, 2008
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Big Hair

"Unskinny Bop" by Poison is about sex with zaftig chicks. This could be a lie, but someone told me this not so long ago and I trust that person's authority.

Also, "Unskinny Bop" is prophetic. When you play it backwards, it tells you the names and addresses of Bret Michael's current wigmaker and Botox specialist.

three word entries, part II: carrying a small bottle of tanqueray in my purse at all times

Apr 3, 2008
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Epitome of class.

what I miss

Apr 3, 2008
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I was in serious love once, and it ruined my life. I'm reluctant for that disease to happen again. I'm not aching to be in a state of vulnerability, where my someone can lay my soul bare, then smash it into the crumbs in the bottom of the CheezIts box.

I'm too jaded to find it possible that someone could ever sincerely want the me that needs to learn to manage my budget, the me that drinks entirely too much Martinelli's apple juice, the me that gets annoyed at ignorance and needs to have the last word, the me that has parent issues.

But what I do miss is having someone who will unabashedly hold my hand when I look like crap. That's always nice.