Monday

I Got Plenty of Nuttin'

Yes, I am a fan of Gershwin, but quite literally, I got nuttin' to talk about.

Party went well but it was quiet. Weather was icky, Bea was icky. Nothing says part-tay more, than having to blow one's nose every 2 minutes. But it turned out for the best. A small group of people showed; the people who we wanted to see the most were the ones who came and that always makes for a fun time.

And so begins another week of work... my last week of doing what I have been doing for the past 10 months. I can't be more excited, but I've gone back to being nervous, which I dislike. A lot. It's a cross between nervousness and anticipation. I can't complain though. My life has been so uneventful as of late that it's nice to shake the old emotions up a bit.

I'm also one mind-step closer to getting the f*#@! over myself. One big thing that I think was contributing to the funk was that the months of serial dating and hearing "I'm just not that into you" on a continual basis really took it's toll on my confidence. However, the malaise that set in a wee while back had the wonderful effect of causing me to reflect upon a lot of stuff. Among the many things that were non-boy related, there were some that were. I was able to bring myself back to a time where not having 5 different guys on the go was a good thing, and that my self-worth is independent of having 5 different guys on the go. I don't want 5 different guys... I want one. And when the Universe sees fit to introduce me to said fella, I'll be ready. For the time being, forcing it by going on blind dates with random men from the internet (put like that it sounds so wrong) is not the way to go for me. I'd rather hang out on my pretty little patio with my tomatoes, playing Balderdash, euchre and other such things.

That being said, with the summer upon us, t'would be nice to have someone to do stuff with. And I really miss cuddling. I guess I have my cat for that. She's such a cuddly little thing. If I could only train her to go to movies, dinners, concerts and the like, now that would be ideal. Do you think I could make a case for a seeing-eye cat? If I wore dark glasses and then harnessed her up, no one would know... except instead of her leading me, I would more than likely by dragging her behind me meowing and scared. Or, I could tell people that the cat is my dead husband who had a horrible transfiguration accident a few years back. His name would be Darren. Darren the Cat. No wait, my cat is a girl. My transexual husband Darren transfigured himself into a cat a few years back in a horrible experiment gone wrong. Sounds like a plan to me. I'll keep you posted.

Bea

3 comments:

mollyblogger said...

I'm with GH... don't make me go out and hunt for them for you... I don't want to get off our patio any more than you do. And I want to go to those singles mixers even less than you do... don't make me, please? I've got enough on my plate with my own boy problems.

As for this summer... don't fret my pet. As you said, when it's supposed to happen, it just will. With that out of the way, you have time to focus on your bigger paycheck, shiny red tomatoes and how awesome you are just as you are, Bridge ;)

Beatrice Petty said...

I love it!

I will call myself Queen Bea, benevolent ruler of the Sub-Junction. And I will hold court on the patio in my throne of green plastic pation deck chair. When the whim stikes me, I will send Molly, my lady in waiting down among the commoners to fetch me a lover... mind that he is quick witted and devilishly handsome now Molly...

Ah, to hell with it... maybe we just need a cabana boy!

mollyblogger said...

ooh... a cabana boy?!!

now you're talkin'...