I never wanted to use this blog as an outlet to self-actualize- that’s what I have bestfriends for. Unfortunately my BFF’s (no, I’m not a fourteen year old girl) are, a) in a rediculously far away time zone and thusly asleep. B) out on the town with a family friend visiting from a different state and it would be rude of me to interrupt. And c) celebrating the night-before-closing-night of Shakespeare in the park. Therefore, my two loyal readers of Silly Speaks, you get the inside scoop on the first (and only; fingers crossed!) installment of Silly Squawks!
Picture it: Saturday night, you’ve decided to stay in and take advantage of quite alone time (i.e. you have no friends in this strange new town). You’ve already made dinner, enjoyed NPR’s Blue’s hour and are now cuddling up for a few hours of good old fashion net surfing. Gmail, myspace, craigslist, credit union site- no new mail, no new comments, no new job listings, no new deposits from fairy godmother. So, you paddle over to the fun stuff and find yourself happily floating in the comedycentral.com sea. After having your funny bone sufficiently tickled by Jon and Steven you surf on until the sleepies drag you away.
Yup, that sounds a lot like my night. Except, at midnight when the little angel on my left shoulder said, “Now go and get a good nights rest”, I ignored her and instead listened to the develish right shoulder that said, “Take one more look at your myspace, just in case”. So, I did. There still wasn’t anything new, but I decided to look in on a few old friends and musicians who had posted bulletins. Forty-five minutes later I was bushed and just as I was about to hit the big red X in my top right corner the right-side devil *poofed* back in and whispered, “I wonder what Mr. Big is up to?”
(Mr. Big is, yes, a Sex in the City refrence, but it also happens to be the code name I use to protect the identity of my own ex-boyfriend).
I’m glad I’m not a cat, because curiosity just kicked my behind. I’ve known for some time that Mr. Big was seeing someone new and I’ve been dealing pretty well. I didn’t even freak out too much when he put up a myspace pic of the two of them (which he never did with us), did I Seababble?! But for some reason, alone in my apartment, at one a.m., without a friend to talk to, I got the wort case of love-lost syndrome. (Oh yeah, it must have been because I was alone in my apartment, at one a.m., without a friend to talk to!) I was never even in love with the guy! I just miss him and his sly, know-it-all grin! Oh well. This doesn’t take away from my strong, independent, woman of the world mystique does it?