A wrong turn

It's amazing to me how much I miss my old job sometimes. Yes the stress headaches are gone, but so are the constant jokes, the weekly lunch meetings, the established routine, and the satisfaction of seeing my hard work in print. I felt like I was a part of something special, one of the few who were allowed to go behind the scenes of things. Now I'm just me. Boring, lazy me.

I'm upset because there is still so much I want to do with my writing, and I wasted a great opportunity to do it. I see that now. I almost feel stupid for saying this, but I'd jump back into my old position in a heartbeat, even after how horribly things ended with the company.

It's a bit nutty

The other night when I was home alone I went outside to visit Luke. I knew there was nothing to be afraid of, considering the 7-foot fence around my brother's back yard, but I was still just a little bit on edge about being outside after 10 p.m. I became even more wary when I opened the door and smelled skunk. Finally, after nearly a minute of sitting with the cat and scanning the yard for movement, I gave in to my fear and went back into the house. I tapped on the window and told Luke not to worry, that no animal would be able to get through the fence, and then I promptly headed to my room. A skunk wouldn't be able to get into the yard - and there is no way it would be able to get in the house - yet for some reason I didn't feel safe until my bedroom door was securely shut. Silly, right?

Enough is enough

Dear VH1,

Don't you think things have gone far enough? I understand the appeal of basing a show around a washed-up or nearly famous celebrity's quest for a lasting relationship (ha), but to use this trash as an anchor for your channel is just plain annoying. I see why some people might initially find that kind of television entertaining; heck, I even admit to having been slightly hooked on the first season of Rock of Love. What I don't get is why all of these shows - A Shot at Love, I Love New York, Flavor of Love, Rock of Love - keep having sequels, spinoffs, and sequels to the spinoffs. Make it stop. Please, just make it stop.

Don't you see as time goes on the subjects of these shows become less likable, and the would-be love interests become more trashy? I kind of rooted for Bret Michaels when his show first aired. To me he came off as a semi-genuine, cool guy... A pervert, yes, but not one of those annoying people who should never have been famous in the first place. Now that he's burned through two seasons of Rock of Love, with a third on the way, I like him a lot less. In fact, he kind of makes me sick. All I can think about is how many of the contestants he's slept with and what an idiot he sounds like when he says he's looking for "real love." Same with all the other subjects of these shows. At this point there is nothing new or inventive about any of them... You've seen one, you've seen them all.

Speaking of contestants, where do you find these people?? Most of them look like they should be shouting at imaginary friends on a street corner or snaking up and down a stripper pole somewhere. Not hot at all. I don't want to see Flavor Flav on my television screen, period, but I especially don't want to see him making out with some crazy Jerry Springer-reject who can barely string two sentences together.

Obviously there are enough people watching this junk to keep it on the air, so maybe my beef should really be with them. But until I can find those viewers and convince them to change the channel, VH1, I'm just going to have to ask you to come up with something original. Please.

Sincerely,
Elena

Love don't love me

Late-night television really is the worst. I was up until the wee hours this morning (coffee at 10 p.m. will do that to you), unsuccessfully trying to find something worth watching, when I started taking notice of the commercials. Sure there were the usual ones about sexy local singles, but there was also a very high volume of dating site advertisements. I've seen these commercials before, I'd just never really paid a whole lot of attention to them.

The thing that struck me about these promos is the way outward appearances were never mentioned, with all the focus landing on a connection, some similar interests, or how quickly they knew the other person was "The One." What I'm trying to figure out, however, is how happy these people truly are. Do dating websites really do such a great job of matching people, or is it that by the time you sign up your standards are so low you are willing to settle on anything decent? You both like Italian food, want two children, and aren't repulsed by the other person's face... and those are your main reasons for getting married? I'm not trying to insult people who join these sites, I am genuinely curious.

If you are tired of being alone and one day find someone with the same interests/beliefs, is that enough to convince yourself it's love? Or do these personality profiles really work? I wish I could see some numbers on how many of these relationships lead to marriage, and how many of those marriages fail. I know that data is out there somewhere. It has to be.

A rock and a hard place

Today I became fully aware of why I hate living in Molalla. It's a somewhat long story, but it goes something like this: A bunch of realtors had a scheduled walk-through of Joseph's house at 11 this morning, so I obviously wanted to spend my time in a different location. If I lived in Oregon City or Clackamas it would be easy to find something to do for a couple hours without even having to drive. Around here? Nothing, unless I wanted to walk to a few different grocery stores or half a dozen bars. The library is somewhere nearby, but I prefer the staff at O.C. ... and by staff I mean Hallie. There really was no point in wasting time in this area when I had some errands to take care of elsewhere.

The real dilemma is which errands I should run. I could do some shopping, banking, library business in Oregon City and then come back home, only burning up about 2.5 gallons of gas, or I could go the extra 20 miles and head into Clackamas to get the new phone I need. The phone that is on sale. The phone that may or may not be in stock tomorrow. If I go all the way out there, however, should I not also see Craig? And since I am going to be at his house all day tomorrow and probably the next day, shouldn't I just plan on staying there after purchasing my phone today? That would be the wise economical choice, would it not? Too bad it's not that simple. I can't just leave at the drop of a hat, hoping I have everything I need and finding out later if that is the case. Not me, not now, not ever. I'm a planner. A doer. A worrier. A regretter. Since I found out about this realtor situation only a few hours before it was scheduled to take place, I didn't have enough time to get all of my stuff ready.

There's also the business of whether I want to spend most of my days at somebody else's house. It's nice every once in a while, but lately it has been too much. I love Craig, I love hanging out with him, Brad, Justin, and Keith, but I also love being by myself. I love being in a big, clean house. I love sleeping in my own bed instead of an oversized beanbag thing upstairs (it's more comfortable than it sounds). I love feeding Luke, rather than just dumping a bunch of food in his automatic feeder and hoping it is enough to last him. That's another thing: How am I supposed to feel good about myself when I am never home to care for my cat? Yes he's mean, yes he's annoying, but he's my responsibility. I'd be devastated if something happened to him. Just another reason why I shouldn't be over at Craig's house so much.

But how can I justify trips back and forth between my house and his? It's 50 miles roundtrip, a cost of about $10. Ouch. Right now, at this point in my life anyway, I can't afford that. I either have to accept things the way they are, see Craig less, or move somewhere different. Bummer.

Dum dum dum

During my morning jog I came up with an idea for a book, one I'd feel comfortable pitching to a publisher even right now. It's more of a novelty than it is a brilliant literary work, but still something that will make people think. I may even start it off as a blog to get the ball rolling. We shall see...

I just can't say no

Does anybody else find it slightly funny that bikini season and barbecue season overlap one another? Or maybe not funny at all. Seriously, how am I supposed to fit into tiny summer clothes when a constant stream of deliciousness is headed straight for my mouth? And from there it goes to my stomach and thighs. Grr.

Ironic.

Breaking the law, breaking the law

When Joseph's real estate agent dropped off the fliers for his house, I inwardly groaned. I may have even outwardly groaned. The reason is that this woman, like so many other people these days, doesn't understand grammar.

The headline above pictures of the house reads, "WHATS NOT TO LOVE!!" What's not to love?? How about an apostrophe and the proper use of the question mark? I love both of those. I know other people might love them as well.

Time to reconsider

I have trouble telling if I'm overreacting about things or if I'm possibly brushing them off too easily. I know I obviously blow stuff out of proportion sometimes because I'm a girl, because I'm a Boryczka girl (yes, that matters), but I also know I'm too lenient about other things. Complacent? Perhaps. Or maybe I see all the fights going on that don't involve me and would rather not add to the drama any more than I feel is necessary. I'm not saying I'm any good at keeping things peaceful, having been the cause of numerous arguments during my time, but at least I can say I'm trying.

We both know it's better than being alone

I'm not going to cry right now. I already cried once today, so any more tears would be self pity. I keep going back and forth on if I should write this out because I know I'm going to sound crazy, but if that's what I am then what's the harm? It matters not.

What's wrong with me? Why do I feel like such a lump on a sinking log? You can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink, just like you can't make someone care when they don't. This isn't news to me; I've been through it all before, I just didn't expect to feel this way with him. I'm sure part of it is my fault. Maybe most of it is. I don't know, I haven't felt right in a while. It's like walking around trying to remember a word that keeps escaping the tip of my tongue. I can't stop thinking about it, obsessing over it, trying to coax my mind into coming up with it, all to no avail. I try to forget about it in the hopes that it will surprise me like a happy revelation, but it doesn't. It never does. I can't keep trying this hard and failing. How stupid is it that I feel like I need a vacation? A vacation from nothing, ha, that's funny.

This is the literary equivalent of a big sigh.