Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Why Is My Custard Lumpy?

This is the title of a book that I am currently adding to the database. As I sit at work, listening to the strains of Beck floating in on my headphones, I have to ask myself: What the FUCK? Why am I here? Why is a book with this title getting published? And why am I working on something so fucking inane, when I can barely find the time to work on my own writing or acting, for that matter?

I know...I sound like a bitter old bitch...(again, pause for response) and I was reading the blog below about Swank and Lowe, and I must apologize. THAT was bitchy. Had it been...say...Katie and Tom, I wouldn't be apologizing...and I'm not - REALLY. Hilary Swank is not the kindest person in the whole world (she comes into B&N all the time, many of us have had our run-ins with her - she's rude and can be nasty) but this WAS one of the bastions of seemingly-real marriages in Hollywood where the people really loved each other. It's a pity that one's career took off while the other didn't, that's all...and regardless of who ended it it's a shame. I mention the question of who it was who rang the death knell, because despite my intial assumption that she took off her strap-on and showed him the door, I think maybe he simply had the grace to bow out before she forgot to thank him at the next Oscars.

Regardless, I know none of it matters a fart in the wind, but at least I can bitch and snicker about other people's relationships who I don't know, as I watch my own love life completely and utterly spiral out of control. In fact one of the only things that seems to be staying under control lately is my weight (knocks wood) which for most of my life has been something that has been completely out control to the point of disaster.
And honestly? There are several yummy silver linings to all of the drama that I'm complaining about...but the fact that these relationships are not what I think I should have, or that I'm worried that I'll get hurt...or that I'm worried about what I'm evolving into. That maybe I'm turning into an a fire and ice queen who can juggle relationships and keep people at an emotional distance while keeping the flames stoked in the bedroom - which, if I am really honest with myself, is maybe what I've always done, except just added drama to a few of them?

Nah. Not quite...I have felt love before. I do now. Very much so. I'm really a romantic at heart, but I am so afraid of getting hurt, that at the merest whiff of danger, my heart puts up not only trenches, mind fields, and moats with alligators; it is now equipped with 21st century hardware and can find other things to keep me entertained instead of that oh-so-desired companionship. Like mechanical bulls and dvd players, for instance.


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