Happy Thanksgiving

"I think the tip I would give most people
for a less stressful Thanksgiving is:
Be born in Europe."
- Craig Ferguson

Vegas Baby Vegas

Well, Chicago and I are meeting up in Vegas. This oughta be interesting, to say the least. Have you ever been someone's birthday present? Is there a handbook for that? I could be sitting on a goldmine here; I better take notes.

(By the way, the trailer for Viva Las Vegas is priceless...click on the movie poster to see...)

I've seen Honeymoon in Vegas, Leaving Las Vegas, What Happens in Vegas, The Hangover, and the Ocean's 11, 12, 13. Somewhere along the way from 1964 to 2009, Las Vegas went from being called Fun Town USA to Sin City to one of the top vacation spots where you take your children!? (Still trying to figure that one out.)

I'm sure none of that will compare with seeing it with my own eyes.

I will tweet, because, well, tweeting is mindless fun and I really like sharing things with my Italian Married and my Carolina Girl.

If I blog...it must mean that I hate it there....and hmmmm the Princess of Sweden is here and threatening to guest blog. Do I dare give her the password? I might come back to find she's MarthaBleepingStewartized my blog.

L'Italia Oggi Vol. I

I am hopeful that if I start to think about Italy proactively, I will somehow find a way to travel there. Since finding my friend, Molto Bello Italia, I have learned so much already that perhaps it is simply a matter of money before I find myself on Italian ground. Ha, simply. Yes.

So here is Italy Today (L'Italia Oggi) Vol. I.


Lingua
I try to bug my teacher once a day for a new word in Italian. Of course, it is fairly useless without grammar instruction at this point. But even babies start talking with simple words.

duomo
te lo merit
modo minaccioso
buongiorno
baci
geniale
sistemati
in giro
principe azzurro
monella
fuori strada
una ragione per credere
vantaggi
mammoni
fa le fusa




Architettura
And this is the famous Teatro Alla Scala, theater, ballet, and concerts.

Duomo di Milano
The Gothic cathedral took five centuries to complete and is the fourth-largest church in the world. And it has a McDonald's directly across from it............that is so wrong!







Musica
And last but not least, I've found that working class blues music sounds quite lovely with an Italian accent. Take a listen to some original music from Italian musician Daniele Tenca.

Hmmmm harmonica, delicious no? I am so so sad I missed his performance in NYC! (And no, dear readers, this isn't my mysterious MBI, but he is a friend of his.)

You can hear more:
Daniele Tenca
Glory Days at Rimini 2009
Daniele Tenca Facebook

So this concludes L'Italia Oggi Vol. I. Pretty awesome. The only thing that would make it better is if MBI would consider guest-blogging or contributing with me. Then it would be autentico Italian education.

On 2nd Thought...

So, I'm fairly certain that Edward planted a thought in my head. When I woke up today, it sounded something like this:

You're flying on Wednesday.

*pause for dramatic effect*

You're flying. Unlikely but, you never know, something...could go wrong.

*pause again*

Don't you want to see New Moon just in case...

WHAT!? I KNOW! WTF?

As if there aren't a lot of OTHER things I should be doing "just in case" something goes wrong, when I fly. Like I don't know....wax, shave, get my hair cut....no, those things won't matter if I'm dead. But standing wherever I am in the afterlife, I'm going to be all pissed off that I haven't seen New Moon...?! What?

That is the silliest thing I've EVER heard.

Yup. I snorted at myself.

Here are some more lovely photos from around the lake today.




So, would you like to know what I thought of the movie?

Nah. You wouldn't.

But I can embrace the afterlife now.

*snort*

Non-New-Moon Fever

(Lest You Think I'm Crazy Disclaimer: The following post is the 3rd in an unplanned series of conversations with a fictional character. The 1st two conversations are here, respectively: Edward and Mortals; Not Breaking Dawn Yet)


"I can't believe you're not out there...."

Wha!? Who?! Where am I? Godpleasedon'ttellmethefeverhasreturned....

"Waiting....in the darkness.
Waiting...in the rain.
Why aren't you waiting....in line....to see me....?"

Edward?

*sigh*

Hello Edward. How nice of you to drop by. How's that...........spawn of yours?

"Oh be nice. Just because I found happiness --"

*snort*

Save it, please. You are a vampire. You're not supposed to find happiness. Especially when most humans can't seem to. Didn't you read Anne Rice?

"So, you're not going to see New Moon because you hated my finding happiness in Breaking Dawn after saving my family's life?"

No Edward, I'm not going to see New Moon -- today. Or tomorrow. Or probably anytime soon. But I will see it.

"Why are you waiting? You loved me once. This movie has some fantastic views of Italy...you'll love that. And....though it disgusts me to say it, you also love those stinky wolves just like Bella."

Ironically, I looked out over the dark blue water of the lake and searched for the swans as if she might be among them, floating around in her clumsy squawky manner. I felt my nose wrinkle as if I might sneeze. Allergic to Bella; anything is possible.

Anything is possible. If I closed my eyes I wondered if I could feel Edward's breath along my neck the way I used to.

There are many reasons Edward.

"I'm listening..."

The actor in the movie doesn't quite capture who you are.

"No actor ever does..."

The thought of being in a packed theater with screaming teenage girls not only makes me want to cut my ears off, but it'll ruin the movie experience for me. I'm very picky about sound.

"So pick an off hour to see it...besides you were a teenage girl once. I can't understand them, but you must...."

More than 20 years ago....

"But it feels like yesterday..."

Yes Edward, sometimes.

"And these books make you feel like you're 17 again...."

Yes, the books. Not so much the movie.

"But you'll go...."

Yes Edward. But I'm really surprised you're here to remind me.

"Why's that?"

This is really Jacob's movie.

I looked up just in time to see Edward's darkened eyes smoldering me to the core.

Ahhhhh yyyyyyyyyes, now that's a nice toasty feeling of need indeed.



For a (somewhat) intelligent opinion about adult women's interest in the Twilight series, read 'Twilight,' the love that dare not speak its shame by Monica Hesse.

For the record, I do not associate with the word feminist. I am many things, but I can't seem to make that word fit as people define it these days into who I am. And I'm not apologetic about it.

I Survived the Flu 2009

Thanks for all the well wishes. I'm 85% better. I just wish I could breathe. Ha.

My really sad thought this week: Realizing no one needed me.

Sorry, I'm the type of dysfunctional-family survivor who still needs to be needed. I'm not talking about co-dependency, just a little validation.

So, all I can say is that you know you're middle management when your team functions without you, and your manager doesn't feel the need to return your calls when you update her on being sick.

Well....

Sweden deemed to leave a comment on my last post admonishing me for blogging while sick. Woman, you should know by now that I need to document and witness everything and I'll probably document my dying last thoughts. Besides, what did you do with your need-for-balance-Libra-self the last time you were sick for 4 days? Did you clean or what? Yeah, love ya too, bish.

The neighbors needed me -- to clean up the leaves in my yard. 2nd warning. I coughed all over the geezer as I told him I have had a fever for 3 days. That will teach him to mind his own goddamn business.

The dogs needed me -- to let them out and feed them. Actually, Chad and Duncan laid on top of me when I was shivering from fever, which was really sweet in that survival sort of mentality.

Speaking of dogs, I spent a lot of time conversing with Sena, my dead dog, these last fevered days. I remember a lot of tears and wanting to go with her. Hmmm yeah, not even close to the fun of my conversations with Edward.

You all might just want to unfollow me now, I understand.

Hey, I'm just reporting from inside my head. It's strange (but sometimes entertaining) right?

____________

Here's an SNL video that made me laugh this week. Tell me, was it the meds I was on or is it funny?

____________

To celebrate the end of the worst of being sick with the flu, here's a question for you all. (I'm not well enough yet to design a fancy poll, have mercy on me.)

Serious Question
If you could lose 10 lbs (and keep it off) but you had to suffer 3 days (72 hours) of fever and body aches (like every cell in your body is full of toxic burning fumes), would you do it?

10 lbs of weight loss
for
3 days of fever and body aches


Inquiring minds want to know. Do tell.

And Then The Fever Came....

And then the fever came....

101.7

101.6

Tomorrow??

I'm an FM radio station. Too bad I'm not getting any hits.

Also woke to news that the E Street Band may indeed be drawing their giant train of rock and roll to a close with this tour.

I've been in bed about 22 hours. And I'm heading back there now.

I also have chills so badly I don't know how to stay warm. 7 blankets, electric blanket, 3 layers of clothes I keep sweating in. Lovely. This sucks donkey balls.

Suck It Sickness

Living alone has so many awesome perks, like well....living alone. I am on no one else's schedule but mine.

But living alone never sucks more than when you're sick. I woke up unable to swallow or breathe, yet somehow coughing is my new best skill. More like, coughing until my head falls off and rolls along the floor.

Chad LOVES to shop, but he has not yet mastered the art of driving to go pick up meds, nor has he obtained the self-control to rake leaves.


But I bet he could bite the neighbors who stood out front of my driveway today and openly discussed the state of my yard. If they're so concerned, why don't they come on over and volunteer their time and energy? Yeah, didn't think so.

Now here's the sign they've posted on every door at work about going in sick....

Chills OR fever
~ and ~
cough OR sore throat

OK, I've got the cough and the sore throat. I don't have chills or fever, but my muscles are definitely sore. So, I guess I could go in according to Ze Zermans policy. Even though I am spitting up vileness from the depths of my lungs that probably carries germs that could make someone else sick. Which is likely how I got this in the first place. Thanks co-workers (and your kids).

Nine days until Vegas....could I please be relocated to the basement? My new space isn't even finished yet anyway. Tell you what, I'll give up my stapler.

Or how about Singles Island? Somewhere germs only exist if people consent to exchanging body fluids.

So today, I did a lot of spacing out....

A Mucinex Extra Strength and Alka Seltzer Chest Congestion cocktail will do that to you. But that tranquil mug is too small for me.

I need to drink tea out of my favorite mug.

Sagittarius:
optimistic, jovial, romantic,
honest, idealism, philosophical

And MBI said to add: Saucy and Dark.

Oh yeah, that's me baby. Especially today. Saucy doesn't even begin to define it.

Excuse me, I have to go hawk up a lung now.

He Just Is

There are a lot of incredible blogs out there. Have you looked lately? Everyone has something to say. That's wonderful!

I wandered around the interwebs this morning and found a few new blogs to read. Pertaining to dating and losing weight and accepting oneself as one is. And there seemed to be thread randomly through each one: men who like BBW women and/or whether or not those men are closet gay. Also, some large and lovely women were showing their appreciation for their gay male friends (the ones out of the closet), saying every BBW needs a gay friend.


Hmph. I don't have one of those. I even checked my closet.

So, here in surburbia I don't have any gays. (Maybe Kathy Griffin could lend me some.)

I do have a lesbian friend, but in this case, that does not come in handy. Unless perhaps I'm thinking of defecting to the other team entirely. I must admit, I've thought about it, but it just wouldn't feel right much as they feel it just doesn't feel right to be into men.

And coincidentally, on Grey's Anatomy this week, there was also a brief mention of the terms "work husband / wife." I know a few people who have them or a sports husband / wife.

Hmph. I don't have one of those either.

But as I went on with my day, which included trying to squirrel away a little play money for Vegas by playing a lovely game of Russian roulette with my bills, I realized I do have someone unique and special in my life.

I have an Italian Married.

(Apologies to Helen Fielding as I believe she first coined the phrase Marrieds in Bridget Jones' Diary.)


Mr Molto Bello Italia, here's to you. Somehow I don't think you're a closet gay, but talk about a supportive alternative opinion. He has such a different outlook on everything that it seems as if I can look at something with new eyes just by discussing it with him. And as you know, I even had a meltdown in the middle of the week. Not only did he keep talking to me, he really worked hard to give me a hand up out of the muddy darkness.

In Shakespeare's time, a muse was a required yet often lamented element in the creative process. Music, art, language, laughter, tears, truths and dreams...those are the pieces. My new muse; he is the glue for the puzzle pieces.

Don't get me wrong, my bestie Sweden is irreplaceable in her strong bitchy opinionated own way. I love her, there's no one else like her. And all my other girl friends, each unique and special in their own way. A male friend just offers a different perspective.

I can't say another woman has ever made me feel so good about life that I wanted to go out and buy flowers for the world.



So, I'll survive without gays or a work husband or a Red Sox husband.

I'll keep my Italian Married.

He rocks.


By the way, if you've missed the last few posts, you've missed a meltdown and a rebuild.

Good Friend Friday

Dedicated to my good friends.
You're there for me every day, no matter what.
I love you for that.

A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart
and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.





What is your definition of a good friend?

What adjectives come to mind?

What do they do that makes them so valuable?

Are they similar to you or complimentary angles?

Have you been one lately?

What is your definition of a good friend?

Sensitive Is a 4-Letter Word

All my life, I've been told:
"You're too sensitive."

Family, friends, lovers, they've all offered or confirmed this observation at one point or another.

It is really one of the most unhelpful observations I've ever heard. What would people like me to do with that knowledge? As if I'm hearing it for the first time at age 40.

A few times I have responded, "And you're not sensitive enough." Usually I say this when I'm prepared not to talk to the person anymore.

I'm sure some of these "You're too sensitive" statements were said to cover the person's own LACK of sensitivity, but others have been genuinely concerned.

My mother's advice to me when I was young:
"You're too sensitive. You better toughen up, life is going to roll right over you."

That seems to have been rather prophetic Mom. Any other future events you're aware of? I love how her advice to her third daughter didn't include any specific ways to actually BE less sensitive.

Do you know why?

Because it can't be changed!!

I readily admit I am too sensitive. Wholeheartedly agree and wish that I wasn't.

You'd think after all I'd experienced, I would have indeed "toughened up," "grown thicker skin," or somehow changed. I read about how to harness your personal power. I've taken classes on projecting authority, and separating emotions from the workplace.

Well, guess what? I am too sensitive. The barometric pressure reading is off.

I'd like to be returned to the factory, please. There's some DNA missing perhaps. Because I don't know HOW to be any other way. And the way I am causes me more pain and suffering in situations that wouldn't phase others at all. They wouldn't even blink while I'm blinking back tears instead.

So the next time someone tells me I'm being overly sensitive, I sure hope they have the remedy and they're ready to spit it out of their smug-faced mouth.

My sensitivity is partly what makes me such a good friend.

Always there. Whatever you need. And genuinely happy to help.

But I don't wish anyone to walk a day in my personality.

And I wouldn't want to walk a day in yours.

And then the Darkness Came

CAUTION: Written under the influence of carbohydrates and the first really bad day of T.o.M.

You know how there's a man code and man law? Well, I'm pretty sure there's woman code and woman law. Why am I telling you this? Because I'm about to break it. Sue me.

We can't stand it when a guy says to us, "You're awfully bitchy today, have you got your period?"

Yet, we're the first to complain to our besties "Beware: I'm in total bitch mode. T.o.M. is kicking my ass and I could tear the head of every man who crosses my path."

We can't handle a guy bringing up what we eat or how we eat or when we eat.

Yet, we're constantly telling each other what we've consumed or haven't consumed and how we feel about it.

Heaven forbid a guy makes a comment about something we're wearing.

If it was an insult, we'll never forgive him for being honest. If it was a compliment, we'll deconstruct it until it resembles an insult.

No wonder they don't want to get involved with us.

But on another note...

It has been a long time since I felt the darkness. I kept it at bay with a lot of Springsteen concerts, and letting work consume me, and living in a fantasy world that there might be some chance I could afford to travel in 2010 or possibly move to a new rental.

I've been in denial. I thought it wouldn't matter.

It wouldn't matter than I'm not getting ANY interested guys from eharmless or OKstupid.

It wouldn't matter that I couldn't exercise because of my knee.

It wouldn't matter that I tried to be normal, eat carbs, and keep Weight Watcher points.

It wouldn't matter that my clothes are starting to feel too tight again.

But it matters. In every way it matters. What am I doing....with my life....?

When the darkness came today, it was all-consuming and sudden and stole the oxygen from my veins as if death had arrived. Darkness came. Not just to the edge of town, not just to the edge of the my thoughts, but encompassed me like a sweeping plague, sinking into my bones, and eating away at my every last thought. Point blank, shot between the eyes. All the pretty lies that get told.

I'm so incredibly unhappy. I loathe myself on days like today. Fear and loathing in New Jersey. Loathing without the therapy of friends or professionals.

I can't be unhappy. It's up to me. If I don't want to be, I can find a way not to be.

In 2 weeks, I'll be in Vegas celebrating Chicago's birthday.

In 4 weeks, I'll be in Connecticut celebrating my birthday.

How can I make the darkness go away? I mean, it always lives inside of me, but not so close to the surface. How can I make it slip back down to the depths?

Where can I find happiness that lasts longer than a Springsteen concert?

Higher & Higher

Chained to this earth we go on and on and on
Then a million suns cresting where you stood
A beauty in the neighborhood
This lonely planet never looked so good

This life, this life and then the next
With you I have been blessed, what more can you expect
This life, this life and then the next
This Life, Bruce Springsteen



I am so blessed to have experienced a once-in-a-lifetime concert on Sunday night. I've tried to write down how it made me feel, and I've pretty much failed to accurately convey to my contentment. I was hoping the writer in me would pull through the wall of emotions cascading down on me like a waterfall.

Imaginary voice in my head, tries to draw out the muse...."But this was like your gazillionth Springsteen concert. How could it possibly be better or different or whatever...."

Well, there are some facts that make it different.

The music played on Saturday night was music not usually played. Music off his 2nd album, made in the 70s, at a time when music was going thorough an incredible metamorphism. It was before his "big" break with Born to Run. Many consider The Wild, the Innocent, & The E Street Shuffle to be more of a collection of musician's music. Something old-time fans really embrace, and not because we're old! There's storytelling in the older songs that just tumble out like poetry. But there's music, jamming, soul-searching, boot-quaking music as well. There's horns and strings and many many things that are often no longer part of a song that makes it on the airwaves these days.

The closest I can describe to how hearing those songs played live made me feel is to say that "It feels like being in love." Heart-racing, adrenaline-pumping, light-headed, floating, surreal, dreamy, perma-grin, alive feeling that stays with you long after you've left the object of your affection.

I have confirmation that I am not the only one who has ever felt this way. What a great feeling to share, across the oceans, across a world full of terrible events and disappointments; we all know what it feels like to have felt love, in its many unique forms.

I'd like to leave with this snippet of inspiration and wish you all some love today. The ever uplifting, soulful Higher & Higher, brought - dare I say - to new heights Saturday night, with a great guest appearance by Elvis Costello. I swear if your toe does not start tapping, check your pulse.

Snap Happy

It is delightfully wonderful to have a camera again. I get really snap happy. You should see the amount of photos I take that don't end up anywhere. I'm telling you, I've got issues.

So without further delay, here are some (IMO) lovely photos I've snapped over the last few days, with the Blackberry Bold (or as I like to call it my CrackBerry Cold).

NOTE: You'll get a much larger view if you right-click on the photo and open in a new window.

Me & my favorite wolf image, peering out from behind the tree.

My new friend, Ruby, the Cherry Orchid.



Very calm morning on the lake.



I love when the water is so blue it reminds me of the ocean.

As much as we dislike clouds, they know how to rock a sunset.

Free Fallin

Ugh, the Yankers have won the World Series. Everyone from my coworkers to my massage therapist have texted me in their celebratory snobby victory dance across technology.

And in the rest of my life, I have no direction....I feel like I'm in a free fall. Please don't start singing Tom Petty to me. I love the song, but all I can think of is Tom Cruise from Jerry Maguire.

I am also office space homeless. But at least I have a stapler in my displacement and they're still paying me. It may be another week or longer; they said it wouldn't take more than 7 days.

People are dropping like flies with all sorts of ailments at work. Some are definitely sick because of the dust and dirt and the new carpet of the environment. I'm trying to get my rest in advance, but somehow I feel fatalistic: it is just a matter of time.

A beautiful beautiful Saturday night MSG Springsteen ticket has found its way into my possession. I will be at Clarence's side stage. I will watch them play an incredible album from the late 70s. I will get to hear Incident On 57th Street and Sandy and NYC Serenade, long jamming songs that highlight the band in amazing ways, then intertwines with Springsteen's lyrics like winding ivy up along a trestle.

No Fly Zone sent me a text message, "Haven't heard from you. Let me know when you want to get together." I counted...this is the 10th week since that dreadfully comedic 1st date. I haven't ever communicated with him from that day onward. Um dude....desperate much? Oh yes wait, you've never left the state of New Jersey, so I guess the answer is yes.

FutureSex sent me an email, asking me to talk sexy to him. Eh. I'm too tired. If it feels forced, then it isn't right. In comparison, talking to my dear Molto Bello Italia is so delightfully easy and comfortable, like we'd been friends for years. FutureSex makes no effort to get together with me this weekend, even though I'm already booked for Bruce, he doesn't know that. I inquired what he was doing with his weekend and got no response. Welllllll, contact me when you're 1. less busy and 2. looking for more than just some sexy words in an email. Filed under: Chemistry ignition stalled.

Sweden had a dream about me. I was 175 lbs and trying on red and black dresses for a wedding, and she recalls saying "The red one, or I'll come down and smack you." Yes, that sounds about right.

Me, 175 lbs. Hahahaa. I don't know how it is going to happen.

Very warm thanks to Dating 2.0 for introducing this clueless one to the networking possibilities that is MeetUp!

And yes, I do love my new crackleberrypop Bold. I love it so much that I don't want to touch the track ball. I might have issues.

Blog Post Schizophrenia

I'm having blog post schizophrenia; several topics that have nothing to do with each other except that they're all inside my head. So here goes the brain dump.

• Birthday
• Vegas
• Phone
  
• Dating/Socializing

Birthday
Someone asked me what I wanted for my birthday.

How about to be 30 again? No? Some things money can't buy.

OK, how about a trip to Milan for one week. $1,000. Maybe? If I work really hard at saving and the car doesn't need repairs that rape me.

How about a few hypnosis sessions to convince my subconscious mind that when I feel lonely, I don't need to eat? $500.

A corset that helps me lose weight? Does such a thing exist? yes! $100.

I think it is a shame that things cost so much money. Because when I want them, I have to shove away that pang of guilt for wanting things that seem to encapsulate material possessions and wealth.

What do I really want for my birthday? To be surrounded by laughter and people who really care about me. It isn't that easy. Like I said, some things money can't buy.


Vegas
Yes, I am going to Vegas. In 24 days. I will get on a plane on the infamously "worst travel day of the year" in the United States, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. And I cannot wait! One of the spectacles I'm looking forward to seeing are the Bellagio Musical Fountains. Here are two beautiful videos, if you're curious.

I really want to stay healthy these next three weeks, so I'll be wearing a mask to work. You people think I'm joking. OK I am joking, but only because I don't think a mask would help a bit. If it did, I'd be Michael Jacksoning it for the entire winter and I'm not even germaphobic. But, in all seriousness, they've posted warnings on all the doors to the company building. Without a camera on my phone (I'll get to that update in a second), I can't accurately capture the warning, but it is written something like this:

Do not enter this building if
you have a cough, and / or a fever.
Turn around and go home.

Yikes. Ze Zermans are not kidding, huh? They may make a test for the swine flu, but they don't want anyone getting it. Solid effort. And I love it when the contractors say "Well I don't get paid for sick days." Well, tough shit. I don't get paid to catch your post nasal drip.


Phone
So, yes, about my phone....my darling phone, remember? FINALLY! FINALLY! FINALLY! A fully functional crackberry is scheduled to be in my hands by Wednesday at the latest, one that is G3 networked, with a darling little camera and video capability. As soon as the clock struck October 31st, I went trick or treating at AT&T Wireless. And, unfortunately, I'm still rather anti-AT&T after all my loyal years, because the best they could offer me was a $300 upfront upgrade ($100 mail-in rebate which I don't trust) for a Blackberry Bold. I could have gotten the exact same model crackberry I have now for $150. Are they kidding? One year later and that model is obsolete. AT&T did tempt me with a $100 iphone, but it was the first model iphone ever made. Um thanks but no. I'm not a fan of touchscreens anyway.

However, I'm pleased to say that my new friends over at Wirefly were perfectly thrilled to sell me the same $300 newer model phone for $79. Come to mama, my sexy baby Bold Blackberry. Coochee coochee coo. OMG, I'm drooling over a material object.


Dating/Socializing
The solitary life is beginning to grow moss upon me like a winter coat. If it weren't for email and text messaging, I wouldn't have communicated with anyone all weekend. I'm OK with that.

(Really. I hate to talk on the phone. Ironically, see above, I'm drooling over a new phone. But only because it is practically a computer.)

I'm not giving up or anything like that. I'm just tired of trying so hard. Just want to let things be. Be how they are. How the world intends it to be.

So, now is as good a time as any to ask: Why did I renew at eHarmless for 3 more months? I don't know, why is the sky blue? (WITSB) I don't know.

Because I'm trying not to give up on myself. You know, no retreat, baby, no surrender.

Another WITSB question: why do I need to use a dating site?

Because society has turned so far inward (perhaps not in a city so much but out here in the burbs) that there really aren't too many options for meeting.

My friend over at Dating 2.0 gave a great list of ways to get yourself out there.

Upon analyzing my interests, I've concluded I'm a boring geek.

• I adore Springsteen and Red Sox.
• I love to read but not on a deadline (sounds a little too much like my work). I've got 10 books waiting to be read.
• I have 2 dogs.
• I belong to a (dying) 24/7 gym.

I belong to a local NJ Red Sox community. Married men and their wives. The group leader was going to talk to the one token single guy, but then our season fell apart.

I belong to the NJ Springsteen community as much as I can, but there are crazies (like obsessed freaks), and there are snobs and I'm somewhere in between. I don't want to peel his clothes off, and I don't want to have a discussion of rock and roll. In my admiration of Springsteen in the past 20 years, I find most male single US Springsteen fans drink too much (I think 8+ beers at one concert is too much, call me crazy) and they want a thin girl. They're basing their ideal woman on someone I'm not. I'm the writer inspired by Springsteen (like Melissa Etheridge was), not the pretty girl he writes about in most of his songs. Except for Thunder Road maybe. I'm the "you ain't a beauty but hey you're alright." Now I've just got to find someone who thinks, "And that's all right with me."

But I have dogs...yes. Surely that will fetch me a guy. Not quite. Chad the soon-to-be 5-year-old has a fear aggression with other dogs that usually takes a day or two to work out of his sensors that not every dog will eat him. So we can walk but not at a dog park. Believe me, anytime he gets attention at the pet supply store, I try to soak it up. Unfortunately the one intelligent guy who works there smokes (not so smart) and has a girlfriend.

The gym has been full of .......3 types of people: muscleheads, ethnically-closed-minded, self-segregating, and non-English-speaking.

I've looked for a movie club. There isn't one. I could start one. How? With a Craigslist ad? I'll get the creeps. Or I'll attract them.

I've looked for a social club. Somehow I don't think the Knights of Columbus hall counts.