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.