Welcome back to the land of the living, bitches. I've been a bad baby.
Every now and then I get waves of anxiety and the form the most recent one took was freaking out about not being able to control who reads what I put on the internet. Now the obvious solution to this is "don't put shit on the internet!" but how much fun is that? None fun. The answer is none fun.
I went to Pittsburgh for a few days. Pittsburgh is the city where beauty and the ability to regulate one's own blood glucose levels without assistance goes to die. I spent enough time with my family to declare them all mentally ill beyond repair and even came this close to getting my mom to smoke grass.
I had a birthday in the middle of it all. Went to Nashville after Pittsburgh and inhaled enough first and second hand smoke to last me through 2010, the year I hope to be done with that vice forever. I turned 26, absorbed some friendly racist banter among Tennesseans and almost got into a brawl with an octogenarian on the flight back to San Francisco.
I severely needed a break from SF, or so I thought. I was ready to fall to my knees and kiss the sweet gay earth when I landed today. The holidays really tested the tensile strength of my sanity, and I was only saved by the white knight known as a bottle of generic Mexican Xanax I found in my mother's bathroom.
I would have taken photos of the horrifying clown show that is the other side of the country, but my only remaining point-and-shoot camera had its lens smashed while in the care of a friend whose friendship I am not exactly acknowledging. Not because of the camera, of course. This was a person that actually made me feel lonelier than actually being alone. Have you ever met someone like that? I barely knew this person at all and decided to just cut off all technology communication and hope the issue resolves itself. Phone, facebook, email, whatever. I'm calling it the "Full Earhart", as it's losing all communication with someone and falling off the grid. Is that in poor taste? I'm open to wittier suggestions. We've all had to duck someone at some point or another. I'm sure someone has done it to me. Perhaps it works both ways. The elusive Double Earhart. 2010, I promise to not be such a stone cold bitch.
To end on a more uplifting and hopeful note, here is a picture I took of the man standing behind me in the security line at the Nashville airport at 4:30 am:
His breathing was like that of a rhinoceros.
Now I must go catch up on watching Dirty Jobs and come up with an outline for a strategic plan on how to better stalk Mike Rowe in 2010. I can't just give up and fail like I do whenever I resolve to stalk various D-list celebrities. No. Not this time. This will be my year.
Hooray! You're back. (Home in San Fran. and to your blog) I hope I was able to keep you entertained for at least a short time while you were here in the South and that your birthday didn't totally suck... I had a lovely time catching up and reminiscing for what it is worth. :) Hope to see you sooon!
Posted by: E | 01/02/2010 at 11:07 PM
Huzzah! I'm glad the blog is back. My feed reader has been sooooo booooooring -- not nearly enough name-calling. Whee!
Posted by: Rachel | 01/06/2010 at 06:14 AM
I was seriously despondent when I found your blog had been closed to thru-traffic. I'm uberhaps it's back!
Posted by: Button | 01/11/2010 at 03:05 PM