No need to say it
It is fucking hot. It is around 100, and there's like 82% humidity, and the air has gone catatonic. I spent the night with my hubby Elaine, rolling around in a mixture of sweat and Ice-pops while scanning through her photos of the ridiculously good-looking foreign boys who send her witty emails from afar (following sultry real-world affairs, of course). I looked at my photos of the grand canyon and the desert and realized how EMPTY they are. Not like my life is empty, and not like "oh, whoa is me," but something about the sweat and the ice-pops and the gross swelling feeling that happens when its so hot out made me think I've been condemning myself to the sidelines again (as is habit).
Example: Very attractive young man, probably a bit older and wiser than me (25, perhaps?) strolled by my sweaty, heavy-bag-lugging, cell-phone-scanning-like-an-urban-rat ass, and gave me this double take and a nice, straight smile. I responded by looking like a deer in headlights. Oh, I'm past the rebound already, and I'm past feeling guilty about using the rebound, so you'd think I'd be all smiles and charm. But no, instead I focused back on what else I needed to add to my presentation tomorrow (which will be awkward and bumbling at the very least) at work/internship/they pay me to be bored a lot, so it's work.
Then I thought: Law school? Psychology? Museum studies? Then I thought: I should call my hosts from AZ. Then I thought: Oooh, I have to make dinner. What to buy?
AND THEN I REALIZED: I think I'm destined to be serially monogamous/single. People around me seem to click and flow with their romantic sides, when all I seem to connect with are strange transients (mostly me as the transient, but still) who are fascinating, but horrible people to date seriously. Why? BECAUSE I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON TO DATE SERIOUSLY. This is not spoken for effect, it's just a realization that hits me every know and again, but now
EWW I just had to kill a silverfish and this blister on my foot hit the desk corner and ow.
Okay, universe, I get the point.
I'll save the needless navel examinations for another day.
Example: Very attractive young man, probably a bit older and wiser than me (25, perhaps?) strolled by my sweaty, heavy-bag-lugging, cell-phone-scanning-like-an-urban-rat ass, and gave me this double take and a nice, straight smile. I responded by looking like a deer in headlights. Oh, I'm past the rebound already, and I'm past feeling guilty about using the rebound, so you'd think I'd be all smiles and charm. But no, instead I focused back on what else I needed to add to my presentation tomorrow (which will be awkward and bumbling at the very least) at work/internship/they pay me to be bored a lot, so it's work.
Then I thought: Law school? Psychology? Museum studies? Then I thought: I should call my hosts from AZ. Then I thought: Oooh, I have to make dinner. What to buy?
AND THEN I REALIZED: I think I'm destined to be serially monogamous/single. People around me seem to click and flow with their romantic sides, when all I seem to connect with are strange transients (mostly me as the transient, but still) who are fascinating, but horrible people to date seriously. Why? BECAUSE I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON TO DATE SERIOUSLY. This is not spoken for effect, it's just a realization that hits me every know and again, but now
EWW I just had to kill a silverfish and this blister on my foot hit the desk corner and ow.
Okay, universe, I get the point.
I'll save the needless navel examinations for another day.