The Virginity Monologues

Today, I may have seen my most favorite picture ever taken of me. I'm at an engagement party, on a couch, surrounded by amazing friends. I'm laughing at something beyond the camera. And I look happy- down to my soul. And beautiful. This picture makes it very clear to me that the stupid, stupid boy who stood me up for Date 4 (4!!!) last night is missing out on something amazing (p.s. thanks to my New Waiting to Sleep With Guys philosophy, I hadn't slept with this guy yet, and I'm SOOOO fucking glad.)

And I'm not upset or depressed or feeling horrible about myself at all. I didn't waste one minute of my day pining for someone who doesn't deserve me. I went running in the park, I cleaned my apartment with my best friend in the whole wide world, then I went to a boot camp class, then I had dinner with Betsy, one of the most amazing friends I've ever had.

As I sat across from Betsy, I found myself talking about how having a relationship would really fuck up my life. How it would take away from all the things that I LOVE about my life now- the time I spend with my friends and my gym time and my nights of doing whatever the hell I want to do with whoever I want to do it with.

And I realized that it's time to stop bitching about being alone. Because really- alone is the last thing I am.

Today's Title from: So Here We Are by Bloc Party

I am finally on the mend from being stupidly sick and being really stupid about getting enough rest to recover. When I should have been home sleeping all weekend, I was running around like a crazy person to boot camp classes, brunches, parties, dinners and drinks.

I've been in a funk and I know I've been in a funk, so I've been working on keeping myself so busy I can't dwell on my funk. And hoping that surrounding myself often enough with the people that I care about will get me OUT of my funk. All of my endeavors appears to be working. I've found my smile again (shit- could I BE a worse cliche?) and I no longer derive a great deal of satisfaction from wickedly depressing music.

The best parts about the last few weeks of my life:

1. An R.E.M. tribute concert and after party, where I stalked Glen Hansard (in the band The Frames and starred in the movie Once and won an oscar for the song he wrote for it) like a crazy person until he agreed to take a picture with me. After taking the picture, realized his hand was on my boob for the picture. Best picture EVER!

2. Finishing the boot camp class on Sunday where I worked out SO hard that I almost threw up.

3. Ana's engagement party on Saturday night, where I spent a large portion of the evening cuddling with friends on a couch and kissing just about everyone who sat down next to me.

4. Talking to a gentleman one evening that I have been very minimally involved with (all involvement occured under the strong influence of alcohol and when sober, I find him to be mildly repulsive) while he texted another female in his life, whom he admitted to 'playing'. I commended him for being such a fine, upstanding man (sarcastically, of course) and he assured me he would never play this game with me.

"Oh really! Why is that?" I asked him.

"Because you'd just tell me to fuck off and then never see me again," he said.

BEST compliment I've ever been paid.

5. The news of a possible visit in 2 weeks from Mr. 11, who continues to be one of the better things that's happened to me in a long time. I heart him.

6. The realization that I have amazing, amazing friends, that I can admit really fucked up shit to and they will talk me out of my moment of pure crazy and still love me on the other side.

Today's Title from: Forest Whitaker by Brother Ali

Its been quite a week. My days swing violently from good to bad and I live in almost constant fear of losing my job as each successive person around me gets laid off. The continual praise from my boss comforts me, as does knowledge that I am almost the lowest paid person on my floor and doing 3 people's job successfully.

Even my life outside of work seems high on the drama with great dates and subsequent disappointment when he doesn't call, ubiqutious arguments over dinners, therapy, OA meetings and an almost complete inability to make sense of anything, or enough time to spend time with the people that I want to spend time with and an overwhelming desire to just be home on my couch, eating pizza and drinking wine.

I'm not depressed. I'm in a funk. I feel less than hopeful about my romantic future. With each successive disappointment, its hard to believe that anything real will ever happen for me or that I will ever actually be in love.

The good news is, BFF and I have booked tickets to go to Barcelona for memorial day weekend. We'll be there for 3 full days and it feels amazing to have to something so exciting to look forward to. Its over 2 months away and I've already got the basic geography of the city figured out, cause I'm a nutjob like that. If anyone has traveled there and has suggestions, please feel free to let me know!

Today's Title from: You Can't Always Get What You Want by The Rolling Stones