Drivin Around Midtown

In case you do not already know...Diana and I have decided to move in together. It's time to take our relationship to the next level. I mean...she is my ex/rebound. Because of this decision, we have done a lot of driving around midtown frantically calling numbers from little red signs stuck in random yards. We have realized this: people offering 'too good to be true' deals on really big duplexes with hardwood floors and all appliances...are usually trying to pawn off a duplex in an area of 'midtown' that is inhabited by dirty old men with beer cans in paper bags during the day and prostitutes during the evening. But hey...I do need a job. In any case...this is difficult. Not only because people are getting pretty proud of their midtown properties, but because I've got this notion in my head that I need to be inspired by the place. We've found a place that inspires me...but it's $150 a month more expensive than a smaller, less inspirational place...with a much smaller bathroom. Lemme ask you this: is $450 a month too much to pay for a big place? It's less than I was paying to live alone...so...I am therefore torn.

I do a lot of driving around midtown lately...and driving back and forth between Hickory freakin' Hill. At home this evening, my mom and I ate dinner while watching 'John and Kate Plus Eight' on TLC. It's this show about a couple that had twins and then decided to have another kid...and got sixtuplets or....whatever you call them. The mom's belly was ridiculous. So is actually watching hour after hour of the show. It's entertaining...don't get me wrong...and the kids are nuts...and it kinda makes me feel a little bit better about my life...cause I don't have 8 damn kids yelling in my ears all the time. The more I watched this show though, the more I kept picturing myself back in London...doing what I would have been doing at this time...instead of watching TLC. I might have been watching TV with....him.....or messing around on the internets, or cooking...I mean...nothing much more exciting...but I would be in London...and not Hickory Hill. Then I get sad. Sad for where my body used to be...and sad for where my heart used to be. There's so much more room in the States. Everything is much more closed in in London. I drive to and from Midtown and I picture myself on the tube...crammed in between two guys talking about football. I feel like there's so much room, gravity is pulling my body in a million different directions, and I might break apart into a million little pieces. But...in actuality...nothing that spectacular is happening...it's just another day...in my life...that will one day end...and I'm plodding on towards having a fulfilling routine...I am therefore forlorn.

I do not know what to do with my feelings. I want to cry, but there don't seem to be any tears left at the moment. I want to laugh, but I feel so rigid inside and out...uncomfortable in my skin. There are times when I don't think about the pain...or the confusion...or the past...or even the future for that matter. I can't tell you exactly when they've happened...but I know they've happened. It's like a glitch in the Universe...in my Universe...as it tries to repair itself, and prepare itself for what's next. I cannot imagine the future. I cannot imagine myself in another relationship. I cannot imagine myself wanting to love someone. What a pain it is to mourn.

I'm No Expert on Daytime Television

But, by the time I get over this cold...I might accidentally be. I began my day yesterday by switching back and forth between Regis and Kelly and The View. THE VIEW for cryin out loud. There was a skinny blond bitch that pretty much argued against everyone...she sat in that seat where the young skinny ones usually sit...like Lisa Ling (so I've seen it BEFORE...gees...he who is without sin can totally cast the first stone). Whoopi Goldberg is on the show now...I think I had heard that, but I didn't actually really care. Their guest was....wait for it...Barbara Walters, the freakin' creator herself. It was like watching an old show...only the stupid one was blond instead of asian. I remember Lisa Ling, from Channel One fame, actually said once that she always talked to her psychic in the morning. REALLY? LISA? Come on! You went to Bosnia and places like that with the Channel One crew...you made us believe that it was incredibly dangerous with your 'whispering'....a psychic?

I cursed TLC for their non stop back to back showings of A Baby/Wedding Story. I'd like to produce a show for them called A Wedding because of a Baby Story. That would make for good daytime drama. I avoided watching soaps, or, some might call it self-flagellation, but I did watch a lot of cable access including someone from Memphis interviewing someone else from Memphis that was wearing a giant, yellow, foam cowboy hat with red sequins. It may have been the editor of Jabber Blabber...I was in and out.

Today I opened my day with a Don Johnson show that I thought was Miami Vice...he was in that, right?...but it turned out to be..Nash Bridges? Then I indulged in a little bit of Tyra. She was dealing with people with eating disorders...isn't that what all her shows are about? She had one girl that showed us all how to pump our own stomachs to keep from having to digest any of our food. Then there was this girl that ate baby powder to control her weight. Um...it didn't. When asked why someone might continue to do something this ridonculous without positive results (cause...you never know)...Tyra's eating disorder 'expert' responded, 'I have no idea.' Tyra then did her little concerned brow furrow 'mmmm' face. It was awesome.

Finally...and this is really the creme de la creme (cream of the cream)...Jerry Springer's show for today was called "Lesbians Attack." Now, I don't normally watch Springer, but...I couldn't resist...and I didn't really stay with it the whole time...but I know there was pillow fighting involved...some girl's muff popped out from beneath her extremely short dress...and at one point, a giant American flag was lowered on stage, and everyone stopped fighting to sing the National Anthem. It was in that moment, that I realized I was home. Home. The land of the free, and the home of the worst daytime television in the world...and by worst, I mean...the absolute most amazingly best. I'm hungry now...I'm going to go down some baby powder and get back in front of the boob tube. I think they might be showing back to back Matlock.

Strange New World

I was sitting in front of the television watching 'What Not To Wear' when I suddenly realized, 'I don't care what this girls friends and family think of how she looks.' SO, I gathered myself up and walked back to the computer room to B-L-O-G.

Walked around Cooper Young yesterday saying hello to people and having random conversations. It's nice to be able to do that. No one really wants to talk to you in London...in England for that matter...ESPECIALLY if you're American. There appear to be a couple of new eating places that I will need to visit...and perhaps frequent...the Bakery by Burke's being the number one place on my list.

I chatted with the lady that owns Hi-Octane Vintage (with her husband)about this insanely cute yellow dress that she had. I asked the price and she told me, but she punctuated it by telling me the dress was an extra extra small. She did not do this in one of those voices that hints that there is no way in hell that I would be able to fit into it, but rather in a voice that implied that NO ONE would be able to fit into it, and isn't that a bitch? I agreed, made a joke about the size of my chest (and we all know it's phenomenal), and continued browsing. Everything was fabulous, and so moderately priced, I could see myself throwing loads of money away.

I've looked at two 'eh' apartments in Cooper/Young so far...both with carpet (in midtown? REALLY?) and both tiny and pricey. Ridiculous.

I'm keeping myself busy. I've discovered that keeping busy and being angry are the two best ways to keep from feeling sad. When I'm not angry, but rather, inundated with memories of sunny days in London, walking hand in hand with he who shall not be named for a little while...or just resting in that little nook of his arm...I ache with sadness. The world slows down a little, and I am paralyzed by hopelessness. Sometimes I think of myself...riding my bike around midtown...thinking of him...my heart belonging to him...and I'm sad too, but then I get angry...because I focused my heart on all that...and I was the only one...in retrospect.

Tonight I'm going to try to make it to the Hi Tone to see Al Kapone. I get real tired at around ten p.m. so...we'll see what happens. I fell asleep last night reading my beautifully bound Master's thesis. It's not bad...but it is terribly boring sometimes. I mean...Early American Transcendentalist Feminism...........................................WAKE UP! GA! Thanks a LOT!

Anywho...if you want to come out...and pretend like I never left...or smother me with kisses...I'll try to stay awake. Let's see what happens.