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My insides are screaming as if I drank a pot of coffee or snorted a thousand lines of cocaine and why you ask do I even have time to be pensive about this shit when I’m smack in the middle of the busiest time of the year? Because my head is going to explode – that’s why. And because my therapist graduated me off of her couch and so I’m stuck with this blog – my only outlet – besides Vicodin or alcohol or some other substances that I might be able to abuse to get rid of this feeling like I am crawling out of my skin. 

Do normal people get like this? Am I a nutball? Maybe I should change my hair color – maybe it’s the damn red hair that is attracting all this drama in my life. I bought a platinum blonde wig the other day at FiFi Mahoney – it’s called Sophia – that is what I wanted to name my baby – the one I didn’t have – I think that is what I need to do is wear that wig – Vidal Sasson said women get bored and like to change their hair color – la di fucking da! Simple solutions for simple minds. 

It’s been over two years since the Angel of Death passed her wand over my life and pretty much burned the landscape down to the ground. Two years of building a life back from the ashes. Two plus years of learning to live alone, to accepting I may remain alone, and to realizing that there is not a goddamn thing wrong with that as a lifestyle. And yet, I still cry when someone asks me about my marriage. I still long for what could have been. Stop – quit looking backwards – look forwards – and there are all these smiley faces, happy and joyous – but sometimes it all rings hollow. 

Life sucks sometimes.  

Who the hell wants to be in love – it sucks! It makes your stomach hurt and then you toss and turn at night and wake up feeling like your insides are crawling through your skin. It’s nauseating. 

I prefer foot loose and Rachel free – love sucks!

A friend is trying to set me up with someone who she thinks is perfect for me – why now? Why me? Leave me alone. Ugh. 

…no matter who it is, there i am fucking it up… 

Haiku for the L Train

We could fuck this up
But there is another way
I see it clearly 

I said this about forty times yesterday and wrote it in an email that I subsequently deleted twenty times. Then I get up to this horoscope – who is writing this stuff and why do they have a direct link to me? – it’s starting to creep me out:

The love train is pulling into the station today, and it’s stopping right in front of you! You are going to get a big dose of affection, which you should return. Keep in mind that love comes in many forms, and this surge of positive emotion could come from a family member, friend, or even a particularly grateful coworker! There is no hidden agenda to this warmth, it is meant only to communicate the value you bring to someone else’s life. Give this same message to someone you love today.

Jake calls lipstick, lipchick. He is possibly the only thing in my life today that made me smile from ear to ear. 

Again, after the party, I find footprints all over my bathtub. I don’t know what is going on in my bathrooms during these shindigs but I’m determined to find out – I’m thinking of installing hidden cameras. 

S sends me this: 

In going where you have to go, and doing what you have to do, and seeing what you have to see, you dull and blunt the instrument you write with. But I would rather have it bent and dull and know I had to put it on the grindstone again and hammer it into shape and put a whetstone to it, and know I had something to write about, than to have it bright and shining and nothing to say, or smooth and well-oiled in the closet, but unused.”  Hemingway