How did I get back to being such a bad blogger that you have been greeted by a blank page? Ack!
Here is a list of things I have been thinking about until I think of something better to post and sorry if lately my posts have been a little dating-centric but I think you’ll agree you’d rather hear about that than work, no?
1. How do you care for basil? I bought a basil plant from Trader Joe’s, and, small miracle, I have managed to keep it alive, but it looks, like, well, gimp basil with a bad toupee. There are weird flowery bits growing out HERE, and parts of it are deep green THERE, and part of it are celery green and limp here AND there, and really, what should I do?
2. I was driving back tonight from meeting awesome Gwen, in town for a wedding, at Little Next Door for some moules frittes and lovely girl talk, and I was heading East on one of those rare streets in L.A. where the lights are timed and you almost feel like you are on the highway.
And I think I’ve mentioned before my love for highway driving, my #1 alone activity, topping even a) watching “Persuasion” and crying my eyes out and b) rearranging my sock and underwear baskets by color and/or appropriateness for wear outside the confines of my apartment.
My favorite thing about highway driving is that once you’ve been going for about four hours, you lose complete connection with reality. Or at least I do. This is when my mind feels really free to imagine the possibilities in life. It’s the only time I imagine the passionate affair I’ll soon be having with Josh Radnor, or how I’ll suddenly master the space-time continuum and be able to work 60 hours a week, go to pilates in the morning, run when I get home, and make beautiful, healthy meals in my immaculate home 7 nights a week. And usually, when I arrive at my destination, I half don’t want to, because how is it going to compare with the glorious existence I’ve conjured up on the ride there?
Anyway, I was driving along this pseudo highway, thinking about the pseudo breakup I endured on Saturday, realizing how totally NOT devastated I was, AND, more importantly, realizing that despite all the driving I’ve been doing recently, how I have totally NOT fantasized about this broken-up-with person at all on these trips. That is WRONG.
I’ve had some ridiculous qualifications for a boyfriend during my lifetime, some of which include (albeit unintentionally): a) being an A-HOLE (years 14-18); b) and not wearing deodorant (years 19-24). But I’ve never NOT been able to conjure up a decent picture of our smelly, tension-filled future together on a four-hour road trip.
New requirement for future relationships: ability to conjure up some sort of fantastical daydream about the person by the time I hit Vacaville.
3. Even more embarrassing than the fact that this title references a Tom Cochrane song from 1990-something, is the fact that every time I hear this song I also remember my deep and abiding love for the Bryan Adams ballad from the same timeframe, “Everything I Do (I Do It for You)” and also, Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, in which Kevin Costner gave up on his accent 12 minutes into the picture but I didn’t give up on him EVER.
If I had driven back then, I’m sure I would have had no problems developing a very detailed Kevin Costner highway fantasy. I know, ew.
Sunday Undies 