I have been sifting through old blogs for old music loves and in the process finding some pretty good lines - maybe it's narcissistic, but as an aspiring writer I find that I need to remind myself in the dry times that I have not so dry moments - and drum roll here are some of what I believe are my somewhat finer moments.
"Heartbreak = good old fashion heart ripped from its sockets and you being left with a hole to be soaked and preserved with tequila, brined with tears and stuffed full of Black Cherry ice cream. If you are too young to have one, it's glamorous, if you've put enough miles on your heart it somehow makes you feel like a veteran comparing battle wounds."
"I don't carry anything other than an over-sized designer handbag, especially not luggage, as I informed the nice young man at the local sports co-op" TOITB - this migh explain why I check everything when I fly
"start hearing the annoying loud ticking of their future coming from goodness knows where. Like my barista boy did today, it attacks you from behind, makes you feel slightly violated, but then you are forced to face it, attempt to wrinkle your preventatively Botoxed brow at it, and then deal with its ugly truth, like a sweat stain in a satin dress in August there is no avoiding it, your uterus has started to call the shots. So you do as any good single girl does and you develop a habit of abusing your liver, spend long hours with a therapist trying to figure out why the hell your here (you discover your family is surprisingly more toxic than your new drinking habit), start a fetish for some weird clothing item, pick up a slightly masochistic sport that involves tonnes of traveling to places that start interesting but unfruitful cocktail party conversations and so on... but in the end the only men chasing your skirt are OM types, too old, too single and oddly likely not too sure which team they prefer...
"My uterus is aging despite what I do to its encasing vessel - no amount of Botox, anti-aging cream/soap, running, SPF Vampire, vitamins, yoga, and hair colour will prevent it."
It seems I developed a uterus theme in the spring...
"Ack my uterus has taken over, it's more then just talking at me, it's yelling and starting a war, a revolt, a coup. That's it it's start a coup over my brain, my heart and my freaking common sense. I see a baby, and the only thing I can concentrate on is BABY, OOOOOOO BABY, OOOOOOOO, SO CUTE, BABY!!! I WANT A BABY!!! All my precious hormones are pumping through/screaming at my brain and insisting they get one. I have officially banned myself from children. Yes Ms. J I am the one who more often then not swears that they are evil, originating from the same place as pantyhose runs and spilled food on a first date, lipstick on your teeth and all that. Evil."
"Personally for me a man who can't initiate is destined to be skinned alive not only on this blog but also by me. Maybe I am jaded, just too many man children running around - you have to test them with a little flame or hook to see what they're made of, or maybe it's like X says. Relationships are a dance, an equal give and take partnership, if it's lopsided you fall and someone get's smooshed/crushed in the process. In the end your weakness will find their way to the bottom side of my soft gray BCBG stiletto pumps if you can't man up."
"We are insane - I think you know that and well the men I have come to know personally definitely push the stupid category. In the end it is about finding someone you think is a tolerable amount of insane and I need to find someone that doesn't make me want to self lobotomize myself with a plastic knife. So romantic isn't it?"
