great...

blair gets off, scott free.

my new resolution: have a new attitude

all my writing that's considered "creative," sounds so bitter. i sound so bitter. i sound bitter just even writing about my bitterness. it's something that has plagued me for a large part of my life. sometimes, i think it's funny in a pathetic-fantastic way. othertimes, i really hate myself for it. geez. i sound so bitter, right now. what stone fell on my head? what raindrops keep falling on my head? who keeps stepping on my toe? where do i continually stub my toe? why so many questions on supposed causes of bitterness?

maybe i need a therapist. sometimes, the idea troubles me. i think it's too self-absorbed, or something. that's so american. it's a sign of our privilege to be able to have the leisure to pay someone to talk about ourselves. i'm sure it works, but i never have good luck with them. they either weird me out, or contract some chronic disease and have to close up shop (true story here!).

i have a new problem... vertigo. i get dizzy with too bright lights and getting up too quickly. that, and driving. believe me, it doesn't improve my driving skills.

i need to write characters who aren't so damn bitter. even in my first screenplay, the lead character was bitter. bitter, bitter, bitter.

one of the worst poems i heard read aloud was by this woman, "r." "r" from the previous posting would know which, "r" i'm talking about. anyway, it started with this:

"words, words, words." she went on (if you can call it that) to write other poems that started with: "(insert other word), (insert other word), (insert other word)." boy, was it bad. i was subjected to these poems during a time when i was in this theatre company (in another life). god, that seems like such a long time ago. i'm feeling really old and bitter now. i wonder if i should move. i want to live near the beach. i wonder how much it costs. (yeah, as if i have a job with a steady paycheck, right now). huh. i'm a terrible hustler. god, there i go again. bitter.

fever!

i'm back from india, but i've been so SICK, SICK, SICK that i haven't stepped outside my house since the airport shuttle dropped me off. i've been living a mostly horizontal lifestyle, hacking up phlegm and fighting off nausea. what is it? it started out as a cold on the plane trip back. i thought, "no big deal. i'll just drug myself with nyquil gelcaps." that worked. it worked all the way up until i got home. then, the chills, the nausea, the coughing... and it was over. i don't have jet lag, as usual, but i have this whatever it is. i haven't been able to eat a full meal in 4 days. the thought of all the airplane food i ate while traveling halfway around the world makes me want to vomit. but now, i have serious cabin fever. i need to break out. i need to get out.

so karma's been killing me. i haven't spoken to "a" since our last date. he called on new year's eve, but i wasn't able to call him before leaving for india. i didn't even email him to let him know i was going to be gone. did i tell him i was even going? i finally got the nerve to write him an email (over a MONTH overdue!) saying, "OH MY GOD! I'M SO SORRY! I'VE BEEN OUT OF THE COUNTRY!" he'll probably trash it. he'll think, "likely story. 'out of the country,' my ass." but really, that was the best i could do. i hope the lords of karma are easy on me. i know. i suck. i'm the worst person to date. i shouldn't date. in fact, i think i'll just focus on... my career? what career? i can barely make rent. what did i say i wanted to be when i "grow up" as a little girl? once, i said, "teacher," but that was under duress of an abusive preschool in michigan. then, in first grade, i said, "nurse," because i think i thought i would look cute in the uniform... but then again, it was probably under duress of having some career carved out for myself. why do they pressure young kids with big questions like that? as if they even know all the possible careers out there at their age. how do they know i didn't want to be a endocrinologist, had i known how to spell it, or even what it means? UGH! i'm under pressure to make this year a happenin' year... i'm crossing my fingers.

btw, this entry is for "r," who erroneously claims that i never write about him on this blog. he complained to me today about how he's sick and tired of reading the same outdated shit on this page. so there. you happy? maybe i've earned some extra karma points, now. (cough, cough).