A word about being optimistic

I had three weeks in a row where I was soooooo happy.

Now I am writing brooding poetry about storms as a metaphor for love (see my last post).

The good news is that some of my earlier posts were really funny (see posts written last year when I was wandering around London pretending to be in a Jane Austen novel).

Perhaps I am moody because I have to move this week-end. I am moving into a bachelor apartment where I will have a single bed. That's right. This is the equivalent of my not shaving my legs for three months in the hopes that it will stop me from having sex with men I don't like. Not that I have ever done that, but I certainly know a woman who has. I prefer to let the hair protecting my vagina grow - it is much more offensive when the hair grows down your legs than up. . . but I digress.

Which is my point I suppose - that I am digressing. Moving into a tiny tiny place - keeping things simple - but am I going backwards? Perhaps all of you who read my blog (hi again Mom) will encourage me to be optimistic about this special space - that it will be a space just for me. I have chosen homes in the past with entertaining in mind (read - impressing others with my fantastic space and decorating abilities) and now I am choosing a space just for me and my personal grooming devices - it could be really special for us.

But - back to the single bed thing. . . so there's this guy - the one that I tweet about on a regular basis - who I like and who is too self absorbed to bother calling me back unless I send sexually suggestive text messages. I'm pretty sure he doesn't care much but I really like him and keep holding out hope that he will figure out how great I am soon so we can get on with our world take over. It has been a bad week where he is concerned, but usually I can stay optimistic about him and relationships in general by dating several other men (about two per week on a rotating basis) - this week my plan of having many men who somehow together make one whole one backfired . . .

Round 1. The guy I really like and I are talking on the phone. The conversation gets cut off. He does not call back. There is no answer when i call and leave a message. When we do speak again he tells me he didn't call back because he 'didn't even think of it,' and was so busy. Then hung out with his room mate and got high (amazing). As we were talking about that his phone cut off again. I left him a message to call me back which he did -the next day. I have not returned the call as I figure it was obligatory.

Round 2. I called an ex who is a real estate agent to find out what a previous property of mine sold for. He said he would if I would 'hang out' with him. I said cool - come to this art event with me at the Spoke Club. He said he is 'so tired at the end of the day all he feels like doing is hanging out and smoking a joint.' (are we noticing a pattern yet?) Made plans to hang out cause i wanted the information but smartened up at the thought of his assholishness - I did not call him.

Round 3. Met a guy on line - super sweet - had a great phone conversation - he called me at the time he said he would and then texted afterwards to tell me how great our chat was and that he keeps thinking about me and can we meet for a drink on Thursday night. I say yes for 7 PM - I feel OPTIMISTIC. Today is Thursday. I called him, texted him and emailed him. I think maybe he died.

hmmmm - should I go on?

I'd rather not because this blog is about being optimistic.

love storm

languish as long shadows

wait to miss the light

warmth quelled by cooling night air

shiver at signs of warning wind on waves

soon to shake breaker walls

the storm

protects its tender eye

the still earth glimpses that which hides behind the noise

and is touched

together al-one in a movement-less moment

until the water ripples again