Here’s hoping you all had a happy and safe 4th. Personally, my friend thinks I may have scarred my daughter, but I think she knew I was kidding. See, she asked during the fireworks how long they would last, and I told her either when the sun comes up, or the guy setting them off caught on fire – whichever came first. She didn’t really respond to that, and obviously they ended before the sun came up. I guess I need to learn that kids aren’t real good with some of my humor. Anyway.
I’m still up in the air about Mr. South Side. Haven’t seen him since last weekend, which is fine. But now I find myself getting upset with him if he doesn’t call when he says he will, or if he doesn’t sound happy enough to be talking to me. Which is ridiculous, since I’m not even sure if I want this to continue or not. I think this is why I have gotten so comfortable being single – I hate what happens to me when I am faced with relationship possibilities. I tend to turn into someone I don’t even know, and frankly, don’t really like too much, either. Skittish? Maybe. Overanalytical? Definitely. Psychotic? Well, I won’t ADMIT to that…
I really don’t remember being this way when I was younger, maybe because back then I didn’t really care too much about the long-term. And even though I’m not actively looking for a potential husband (God forbid), I do have to remember that as I get older, there are less and less fish in that big ole sea out there. Which, I think, is what freaks me out. Or not. Who the hell knows? To be honest, I have absolutely NO idea what the hell I am doing or why I play these stupid mind games with myself (which, unlike solitaire, I really can’t cheat at), all I can figure is that maybe deep down I am a masochist and am enjoying this whole process in some warped way. And, of course, hanging out. If I give up entirely, no more hanging out.
Then, just to mix it up a little bit, I had a very funky dream last night. This dream starred moi (of course), Joe Perry (who is my fantasy person to hang out with), and my ex, Kevin (from my miniseries). Before you all get ahead of yourselves, there was NO kinky threesome going on in this dream, I think there was a lot of symbolism, though. I was working for Aerosmith, and Joe handed me a stack of glossies to autograph for him to send out to fans. He asked me to do about 500. It kind of pissed me off, I mean, I wasn’t even sure how HE signed his name, so I asked him to sign one or two to show me. He made a big production of it, like I was really bothering him. Then he left, leaving me with all these stupid pictures. But instead of signing them, I went to his house and met his wife and daughter. Then their doorbell rang, and there was Kevin, standing on their front steps with a delivery. I was really surprised to see him, and told him we needed to talk. He told me I shouldn’t want him, that I needed someone more intellectual. I insisted that it was HIM I wanted, and asked him if he was clean (yes), if he was going back to school (yes) and if he had a job (obviously yes). So he came inside, and Joe Perry’s wife told me they were going out of town for the weekend, and Kevin and I could use their house to get reacquainted (Apparently Joe didn’t fire me for not signing the pics). All I can guess from this dream is that I am more F***ed up than I realized. Or that black cherry Smirnoff Twisted V’s really mess with my brain.
I did get a couple interesting e-mails from my internet dating venture – although I’m not sure how wise it would be to start adding more drama to my life right now. Oh, what the hell? At least I can’t say my life has been boring, right? And maybe at the very least I can make some new friends (although there’s nothing wrong with my old ones, of course). Anyway, I know I have been all over the place in today’s blog, but that’s kind of my mind frame at the moment. Hope you made some sense out of all this, or at least got a good laugh from my insanity. Until tomorrow then (or later, whenever I next feel inspired)!
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