Hmmm... Well, that was boring.

I just went through a fortnight plus of being as boring as possible.  It ended abruptly on Friday night when I magically appeared at Mojito for the Manicato show.  Whew!  I knew better than to dance that much when I can barely afford enough food to do nothing but sleep all day, but my "Boring Period" of two weeks plus was the first time of my life I actually tried to be someone I am not.  I had to break out and be myself again.  My soul couldn't take it... and neither could my Latin-ish hips, apparently.  I am constantly amazed at just how far these hips can swing without spilling the tequila in my hand.  Yey!

Oh, I hope to post a better update soon. 

Blah

Yup, nothing new here.  I still need a whole long list of things taken care of... let's start with getting me privacy and a day job.

I Need a Job.

Okay, Universe, this lady really needs some sort of worthwhile employment.  It would be one thing if I were just bored all day... but being completely useless in society, feeling like I am not allowed to better the world, and not being able to support myself is a whole other issue.  I would rather sell my writing, but until my complete and total lack of any privacy (including intellectual) happens to miraculously end, employment in an area where I actually do have some job skills will have to find me.  I have been incapable if finding it.  Please click the monkey below.

A Bunch of Whining and then Links

I have felt so useless since I came down with this cold. I can’t concentrate on anything anymore. I don’t even know why I try reading anything right now. My ability to dance is pretty much gone until my body morphs back to its normal shape after this stupid testosterone imbalance finally runs its course. And writing. Writing? Really? Who wants some sort of immortalized turn of phrase documented when she is so run down? It’s just a cold. I know it’s just a cold. But my personality really shouldn’t be expected to glow until I can get over this ridiculously ugly problem. Until then, here are some bits of media recommended for public consumption…

Bridge of Birds by Barry Hughart—I have only two pieces of advice: Seek cover, and beware divine light.

Serenity—“She always did like to dance.” “I can kill you with my brain.” “I aim to misbehave.”

Eets—You try to get this adorable little creature to the puzzle piece, but you can only control his environment, where he walks, and what he eats.

Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein—Sometimes, aliens are benevolent.

Stardust—Every walk of life seeks her; she is used to staying up all night; and, she glows when she’s happy.

Somethings Gotta Give, and I Have Given Too Much Already.

In the immortal words of Burt Bacharach via Dionne Warwick:

"Don't tell me what it's all about
'Cause I've been there and I'm glad I'm out
Out of those chains, those chains that bind you
That is why I'm here to remind you."

And, of course, in the immortal words of Shirley Bassey:

"Men are mere mortals who
Are not worth going to your grave for."

 I assert my freedom.  Sweet freedom!

Accidental Soapbox

The rain is rather beautiful today. Sigh… I have had some things on my mind lately. Sometimes a gentle rain helps. I have this long list of mundane things to do today, but I have had some problems concentrating. Someone ticked me off last night, and I cannot seem to get over how quickly I let him offend me. Normally, I am so good at staying calm.

I was sitting at Sam’s (a local diner) in the wee hours of the morning, and some man type person with no ability to flirt with intelligent women sat down next to me. The next thing I knew, I am actually making an effort to verbally put him in his place. It takes a lot (pardon the understatement) to offend me enough for it to show. It were as though he though being a superficial and degrading bastard might charm me. What self-respecting woman would ever put up with that?

It did make me miss my Mr. Cuddlebunny a little more. I know and trust that sometimes he has to go romp and play in the field with the other wild cuddlebunnies, but if this thing with bastards flirting with me becomes a trend, I fear I may have to adopt a new name of Penelope… or start a new writing project about a woman named Penelope. Huh, that might actually be a little fun.

Well, until my Mr. Cuddlebunny of twists and turns or my personality crush of Mr. Johnny Depp feels like stopping my way and saving me from my lonely existence, I suggest that only people with actual charms try humoring me with flirting. Of course, right about now they are the only two who can lay claim to my subconscious romantic desires (or even the conscious ones for that matter). Please keep failure in mind if something about me drives you with an irrational need to vie for my flirtatious attention. I will try my best to be gentle, but if you insult me into shooting your intentions down in flames, I cannot be held responsible for the condition of your broken heart.

“If you can’t stand the heat, then wait for the chicken nuggets to cool off, goddamnit.”

Oh, and don’t even let me start about the Egyptian named Pierre!

My Mundane Details

I have resumed the quest for part-time employment with someplace completely local.  Anyone know of any place that can deal with my eccentric ways for a few hours a day in return for brilliant insights of my own fashioning?  Hee-hee.  I know I can't take a full-time gig, yet; I have far too much on my mind these days. 

Speaking of which, my mental gears kept spinning on something last night.  I tried writing and couldn't concentrate.  I tried reading and couldn't concentrate.  Well, that should have been no surprise; I have problems reading most of the time anyway.  I tried the ritual of applying makeup to my face to distract myself from dwelling on it too much.  Even that didn't work.  The weirdest part is that I don't even know what my mind is spinning on.  I don't know exactly what the problem is that I am trying to solve.  My internal processor isn't caught in a loop... it's just running some sort of complicated process right now.  Who knows, maybe I will wake up and have discovered a new prime number in my sleep.  The only other time I felt this way was early this May.  Oddly enough, when that answer presented itself, I finally learned what the problem was.  Luckily, I woke up well rested despite having accidentally left my light on all night after pacing for a while.  I'm a kinesthetic thinker.  We pace.

After a relaxing afternoon involving my losing a game of Scrabble and sitting around having delightful conversation with Gaynor and Mark at MELT!, I decided to try my hand at writing a serial based on that particular green and purple coffee shop.  I am thinking about dramatizing the actual day to day life there.  You know, I won't make it fiction, just a stylized reality.  I could use that kind of literary challenge.  I'll keep you posted. 

Also in the land of mundane details... I might have lured myself a leading man.  It had been so long since I even tried.  This one is named Mr. CuddleBunny.

Sleep. Sweet Sleep.

I have not slept so much and so comfortably in so long.  It feels marvelous.

I am sitting at the Caffe Trieste this morning feeling all well rested, caffeinated, and fed.  The morning conversations were quite wonderful today.  I sat a table with three quite charming and handsome fellows, all of which had quite a bit to say about the world.  It was marvelous.  YEY!