 Keeping It Close |
|
So help me, I just ordered myself a Tweezerman, and my eyebrows are already twitching in anticipation. Apparently for all of my feeling like a lardass and the constant chocolate eating, according to the scale, I weigh exactly the same as I did this time last year, which means that according to the personal trainer at the gym, I only have 5 pounds to lose to get to my "ideal weight." Which just seems impossible as I still feel pretty heifery most of the time. The mind boggles. I'm making my annual return pilgrimage to the gym this weekend. Shut up! Stop laughing. It's okay, I don't really believe me either. Robert Downey, Jr.'s new CD is really turning me on these days. Because I think I might be certifiably insane, I just bought the Of Love and Hope LP off from ebay and the CD from Amazon Marketplace. I can't believe I just plopped down $100 for these items. And I don't even have a record player. Well, I'll be really glad to get the CD and hope it's really "like new" like the seller proclaimed. I would have bought the sheet music, but of course I've had it since I was approximately thirteen years old. I've decided that what I need to do with my tax refund is purchase a 12-inch PowerBook G4 that is identical to my sister's, with which I fell in desperate love on a holiday afternoon in a coffee shop when I basically molested it. I mean, a lot of you have already had your first iTunes or wireless moment, and you remember what it was like. I've always been a bit of a late bloomer, and this is no exception. But this shit ain't cheap. I don't know. I am torn. I'm so used to paying off bills that I'm not sure what I'll do when a handful of sweaty money is just thrown at me in a few weeks. But the car's paid off. The floors are paid off. Even the Old Navy card, my secret shame, is paid off! I've nothing else! To! Pay! Off! Unless you count the mortgage and the student loan, which I totally don't. The tax refund certainly won't cover the whole shabang, and I'd still have to fork over a hefty wad to acquire this glorious device. I don't know. Something about the thought of being able to take it with me anywhere and post entries and burn CDs while curled up in a coffee shop chair with a scone and a latte makes me all goosey inside. I have lost any ability I might have deluded myself into believing I even had to play it cool. I am not playing it cool. e.e. cummings has been busted out. That cannot be good sign. I don't know what's come over me, but it's like I have gone from one extreme (distrust, angst, anxiety, assumption of worst all around, not specifically in terms of any specific person, just in general as a life attitude) to the other (giddiness, trust, and God help me, hope, both specifically and in general). Surely there's a middle ground that I might find if I flail around some more. Not that I could. I feel like I'm really flailing to the point of probably scaring him and definitely scaring myself. I don't even know what to say. I mean, people, I hopped onto the back of a motorcycle wearing open-toed shoes like I didn't have a care in the world. And other than for the fate of my toes, I didn't. I am not exactly a daredevil, am I? No. No, I am not. Maybe once I kind of was, thinking back on all of the dumb things I've done in my life like careen through the Rockies on Rick's motorcycle with nary a helmet in sight probably under the influence of God knows what illegal substance, but I haven't been in quite a while. And the thing is, I felt safe and excited and at peace and thrilled all at the same time and really not even scared at all. Jesus! There is so much more I could say about this, and the words feel like they want to spill over and fill pages and pages, and they're doing that in my paper journal to some extent, but I can't let it happen here. You understand that, right? I can't. I need to keep it close. About this time in ...
© Copyright 2005 elb |
|
