Regression

Despite the fact that I finally had another living, breathing (male!) human being in my bed the other night (more about that later), I am now sitting on Sock's couch reading my weekly event emails, realizing that I have the rare opportunity to *more than likely* run into an elusive ex-lover, and actually contemplating doing so.

re·gres·sion n
1. a return to an earlier or less developed condition or way of behaving
2. a going backward or a backward movement or progress, especially through the earlier stages or forms of something
3. reversion to an earlier, less mature, and less adaptive emotional or mental level, often involving the appearance of forms of behavior associated with childhood
4. a process for determining the statistical relationship between a random variable and one or more independent variables that is used to predict the value of the random variable
5. the recurrence of an earlier, less complicated physical type among the later generations of a particular population
6. the apparent backward motion of a celestial body, caused by the differing orbital periods of the Earth and the body being observed
7. the slow movement around the ecliptic of the two points where the orbit of the Moon crosses it.

I pick numbers 1,2,3 and 6, if you could consider me a celestial body. Give me a big SMACK upside the head through the internet now, will you please? If I could just erase this thing, I don't think life would be better or easier, but my emotional state would certainly be much improved. I might actually have a chance at being happy with one (or more) of those complete morons I end up dating. I might not think they are all complete morons.

The dumbest part of all this, is that I have been in the midst of an all-encompassing freak-out for the entire month of December, involving a mish mash of holiday-fair prep & table-manning, babysitting, errands, presents, job interviews, volunteer work, and various other things that plague americans during the holiday season. Nothing new. But this year, unlike the past ones, has not been a get-it-done-and-get-out-of-town situation. It is killing me! And making me crazy! And screwing up my decision-making and stress-controlling skills! And through it all, I am determined to still have fun! Because I am young! And fun! But I have gotten about 10 hours of sleep in the past three nights and I want to crawl into a hole and die! And I can't. And now, after all this crap, I am still thinking about madly dashing from yet another all day fair (tomorrow... when do I sleep?) into the city, to the Meatpacking District, of all places! just because I might have some chance of running into some guy I should have forgotten about some months ago.

I have to stop writing about this, it is depressing me.

On another note, don't ever read that book God-Shaped Hole that had been sitting on my bookcase for about a year. I finally did, and unless you want to cry your eyeballs out over some non-existent people, you should stay away from it. Whole new meaning to tear-jerker. Actually, maybe you should read it so we can discuss it and try to figure out why something so lacking in "real" literary content could have such an emotional impact. Having said that, I have never read past page 10 of a Nicholas Sparks book (thank god! they are truly terrible)- this was better than Nicholas Sparks, but still no Dickens. And yet, I am strangely haunted by it. I think I have somehow entered into a very fragile emotional state, and if I don't get the hell out of here soon, I will be going over the edge.

Hang on until Friday, girl, we can do it... yes, we can, yes... we can.

SAD

I thought things were getting better. I had my work under control, my Christmas music rolling, twinkly lights and the knowledge that in a few weeks, I'd be home. I was feeling better than I have the whole time I've been here -- consistently good.

Then the rain started. Awkward Igor called. I went a long time without really seeing my best friend here, and my phone shat itself and died. I've lost all inspiration to finish my last leg of work (so close, and yet so far) and all I want to do is curl up and cry.

I've been irritable and snappy all week, but no one's come over with ice cream and Sex and the City and Miller Lite let me bitch to them. I've skipped class and meals and I wake up too early every morning feeling sick. I haven't been sleeping much. All the stress that normally accumulates at this time of year is compounded by the fact that I'm here -- in France, away from all the familiar things that usually help me get through it. It's so much harder.


I know I don't have to wait to be asked, I could go to someone with my stress. But sometimes I want to be noticed. Not questioned or pushed to talk about it -- just acknowledged that I'm having a hard time and maybe some little gesture would help. Even just a smile and a few commiserating words.




I just really miss the people who know me.

So Depressing it's Romantic

That about sums up what has been happening in my personal life this week. But, one can't be a bohemian without having a dash of romance and a whole slew of drama. However, in this digital age of ours, all I have to show for it is a full inbox. Not quite the same effect as love letters, goodbye letters, any letters. Kind of makes me feel pathetic- like I'm trying too hard to be Carrie Bradshaw or something. Which I'm not. What am I trying to be?

Maybe one day when I'm 97 years old yahoo will still be around and I'll reread these stupid emails and laugh about it. Or maybe I'll laugh about it next week. Right now I just feel romantically depressed. Damn emotionally stunted men, damn them all to hell!

xoxoxoBon
ps- it's snowing again. I'm going to buy a christmas tree. it's going to be just lovely.

First Snow

It was indeed the first snow of the season today in NYC. And it was simply beautiful. Even though I don't frolick like I used to, it gives me the warm fuzzies just to look out the window, coffee in hand, and see my neighborhood blanketed in something so pure, so clean, so different than the usual dirty shades of gray. I spent the whole day manning my table at our holiday craft fair at Waltz-Astoria (the most darling little coffee shop!) and even though I didn't leave the premises for almost 7 hours, it was just grand. I have to tell you about this sweet, simple day because it is times like these that I hope will provide me with enough good feelings to get through the successive frigid days ahead. After a long clean-up, a cramped ride home in Kevin's clunker, and lugging it all back upstairs, we ordered from Tasty and cackled all night long. The Festing has officially begun!

Even being a broke, single, responsible, old-farty adult, I still truly believe Christmas is the most magical time of the year. And I am reminded that my little life is actually really good, even though sometimes I try and don't succeed, give and don't receive, and love without return. It's okay though- because I can still look out the window at the first snow, and be thankful, and that makes me happy, just being there. I wish this for you too. For all the people I love, and hell- even for all the people I don't love.

xoxoxoBon

ps- this morning I locked Mikey and myself out of the apartment in the snow. thank JESUS Taylor lives above us and won't hate me for waking him up (forever at least)!

Overheard on the N train

Bringing psychoanalysis to the huddled masses:

Baby Phat #1: yo motha slaps you aroun, right?
Baby Phat #2: yeah.
Baby Phat #1: my motha don't slap me aroun, that's why I don't respect her. If she slapped the shit outta me, I would respect her, y'know? I don't pay her no attention now.