Of recent note in my life: I told Bob that I would cease sexual relations with him if he were to get a tattoo of Alice Cooper anywhere on his body. I do not care for famous person tattoos, and finding Mr. Cooper's inked visage on the body of the man I love would break my heart, so I had to pull out the Big Gunz and make a threat. I wouldn't like it if Bob got my face tattooed on him. I just...don't like face tattoos. Tattoos in general are great, but not, um, a rock star's face. Ya know? I'm getting nauseous just thinking about it.
I just read RDC's blog and her final paragraph was so lovely, and yet it is something I cannot seem to realize in my own life. I cannot count the number of bus rides home from work that I have spent mentally beating the shit out of myself for the choices I have made in my adult life. It is staggering. And today I was particularly hard on myself, as I was reading a book (Second Book of the Year: The Little Chapel on the River by G. Bounds) and the author, not too many years older than I, stated that she's felt her whole life that her life had to be some grand sweeping measure of accomplishment. Me, I just need (desperately) a career change. But still, I had 1999-present to make what I wanted happen and instead I made this other boring, stoopid thing happen, and I keep getting rewarded for being bored and slacky. It's weird. Of course my life is good. So much love, so much comfy bed and happy fun improv. But this career thing has me in ribbons and I cry every night and I need to change it up before I go nuts.
I took out both seasons of the Chappelle show out of the university library and am gorging, since they both have to be back on Thursday. They are funny, but I'm sure you already knew that.
My "bad cholesterol" is too high and I've been instructed to step up the exercise and cut down the animal food. I've considered getting a bike, but I'm a total traffic chickenshit and can only imagine that I'd end up under a truck. I was on the verge of acquiring a bicycle when I decided to leave Northampton back in '99. Had I stayed, I would own a bicycle. But not so much here, in A-town, now. Bob has a bike that he rarely rides. Newport, 2001, me and a Cadillac. Hmmm...
Still can't decide how to celebrate the b-day. Bay Area w/Cass 'n Coco, weeklong writer thing in Austin w/the faboo L. Barry (yes, that L. Barry), back to Durham for a weekend radio thingydoodle, Portland, staying here and ignoring it, so many decisions and what, only 53 days? Shit!
I put way too much pressure on myself. I need to stop.
Posted by Zerd at January 10, 2006 06:22 PM