I think it's a combination of the bagel I ate this morning, the sudden slow down of an over- stimulating summer (stress, salsa, more stress, monstrous loads of caffeine, more salsa, and, lastly, even more stress) and some personal drama (I'm saving it for the novel I'm planning to write when I'm 82). Since we completed all the loose ends of the THE PROJECT and Evil Flash Programmer abandoned us (did I mention everyone left LA...can you tell I have - big therapy word coming up - "abandonment issues") in order to get married in Vegas (where are his priorities?!...at least he opted out of the Vampire wedding), I've been happily bored (the way God intended August to be). Lately, I've found myself doing some outlandishly out-of-the-ordinary things like reading books, riding my bike on the beach, and chatting with my neighbors about The Parking Situation...here it's almost Labor Day and I feel like I just woke up to summer. The lesson: there's a fine line between being chill and in a coma, and I finally get why old people sit on the front "stoop" (the best word in the English language) and watch the kids play ball or text message their agents...

With that said, I will admit that I've been feeling a little bit lost lately...(work and stress is a great distraction from finding one's purpose in life). It's actually a place where I've spent most of my life, marked by the occasional moment of clarity when everything seems laid out like the first day of school syllabus that your English teacher hands out...despite the fact that you know he's never going to follow it, it gives you a sort of comfort. But then there are times like Now, when all I can do is make sure I like the cup of coffee I'm drinking (I will drive my ass to Peet's if need be), pay my bills on time, floss regularly, and try not to spend too much time in the frozen food aisle of Trader Joe's...

Just for today, I can be in another coma.

I was awake this morning at 3:00 am, just when the earth covered the moon, but I didn't hear about the Lunar Eclipse until I got into work today (because I'm ignorant of news and events). I believe that the moon affects us in ways that we can't even know about. Below are just a few of the byproducts of last nights lunar eclipse in my life...

1) Website dissappears (did anyone notice this besides me?)
2) Bank "forgets" to pull funds from my savings to cover my overdrafted account (OK, so it's my fault for overdrafting...but even Banker Guy admitted it was the moon)
3) Period four days early (definitely the moon)
4) Egregious salsa dancing (not necessarily the moon, but I just thought I'd throw it in there)
5) Friends mysteriously out of town (again, that's probably because it's August and everyone's on vacation or at Burning Man, but I just wanted five things)

Just for today, I can blame the lunar eclipse.

I was feeling a little bit lonely this weekend since a lot of my friends are either on vacation (the nerve of them) or have recently moved away (the nerve of them, too), AND my therapist is on vacation (WHAT is up with THAT?!...). But then I had a crisis of a "personal nature" (I won't go into explicit detail because I'm curbing my God-given compulsion to spew forth such details as might horrify and disgust potential friends, employers, suitors and anyone else reading this to whom such information might paint me as ignorant and/or disrespectful of social norms...which I am) that I needed to talk to somebody about. I went through my cell phone directory and realized that the only two people I could confide in were two old friends (one of 10 years and the other of 25) to whom I speak to somewhat infrequently. It made me think about the nature of intimate relationships and provided me with a new definition of a true friend...

True Friend: Someone you can not only call, but on whose voicemail you can leave a detailed message about your hoo hoo, and they will react to it as if you were discussing bad weather (which you basically are...I'm sorry, just couldn't resist).

They both called back, listened, shared some feedback and told me that I could leave such messages anytime (so long as it's not the land line...I can just imagine my friend's husband taking the message down...).

Just for today, there are certain relationships in which I can talk about my hoo hoo and others in which I would be hard pressed to admit that I have one...

"Fun" is not a word I would use to describe this summer. Neither would I use the word "relaxing" or even "sand-filled"...

But as I mentioned in the company meeting yesterday, it's been a very "growing" time ("growing" being the universal euphemism for "total fucking nightmare") that has yielded positive results in myself and others (and I'm not just talking about work peeps...). In a nutshell, before this summer I still believed in the idea of politeness as an effective form of communication. Was I running for office? Not unless it was for Senator Doormat, or Representative I Hate Everyone D-California.

For reasons that don't really matter now, I was living in fear of appearing to be a "bitch" (as if that were a bad thing). What is a "bitch?" A much happier woman, it seems, than I have ever been in my life. Someone who speaks her truth and doesn't take piles of shit from people to store in her lower intestines (I never thought about it before...but maybe that's what IBS is?!!!). What I have learned from my very challenging job and some challenging personal relationships is that while direct honesty may not make for comfortable human interactions, it makes for much LESS stress and frustration, and, in the end (after the dust settles) a much stronger sense of connection to others.

I finally got it that I would rather be respected than liked.

Just for today, I am grateful for my summer of bitch-dom.

I told my friend that the Programmers at my work stay till ten on a regular basis. "Yeah, yeah, stay late, drink Mountain Dew, that's the programmer life." The next day Long Haired Programmer walked into the kitchen at noon and poured himself a giant cup of Mountain Dew. He didn't seem to mind being informed that he's a living cliché...

Evil Flash Programmer is feeling stressed because he's getting married later in the week. I tried to console him with some very boring New Age-ish The Secret-ish cheezeball babble about visualization...and blah, blah, BLAH...(it's hard when you don't really believe it yourself).

"I believe," Evil Flash Programmer replied, "it was Kant or Buddha who said, 'every day you wake up and life is fucked up.' I think it just got lost in translation."

I'm just curious, what is the word for "fucked-up" in Sanskrit?

Personally, what keeps me sane are chores. There's nothing more grounding and more satisfying to my compulsive need to CONTROL than putting the dishes in their proper place. Thank God I'm not a famous Movie Star with ten servants (how often do you hear that?) because if I didn't have to do things like scrape the mold from the tile or hand wash my bras, I would surely go insane (besides I don't like the idea of other people touching my stuff...I'm into the control).

"Every day is a series of needs," I said to Evil Flash Programmer. "You have to eat, brush your teeth, take out the trash."

"Yeah, and then you clean your windshield and find out that there's a big crack in it. See, if I never cleaned my windshield, I would never have found it."

"But then you wouldn't be able to see out of it when you drove."

"Yes, but the one they replaced it with looks like someone's prescription, so I can't see anyway."

Just for today, I can hang with programmers.

...it's just one big serving of an afternoon coma (with no cheese or fries).

Through the haze of my Fat Burger Coma (followed by three chocolate Macadamian nuts...not a recommended diet for high productivity), I heard the words "It won't be the first time I was right and everyone else was wrong." Spoken like a true Evil Flash Programmer. Apparently, everything works in his world and we're all crazy.

I spent last night on a date with my 77-year-old high school Spanish teacher who kicked me out of his class in the second week of 9th grade. I cried. Now he's my friend, thus, giving the practice of tough love big points in my book. I'll have to remember that next time a boyfriend decides to throw a tantrum in my apartment.

Just for today, I can eat coma-inducing foods.

Yesterday, I went to the Farmer's Market to experience sun, fresh fruit, fresh veges, and my requisite state of annoyance at the vibe...(I'm starting to think I go because I like feeling annoyed). This time it wasn't the I'm Not Really Trying to Be Fabulous, I Just Wake Up That Way vibe of casual glamour (just admit it, Farmer's Market Ladies, you spent an hour picking out your lululemon yoga pants) that irked me, but more the conversation between the Lady Who Asks Her Husband If She Should Buy Some Peaches and her Husband that I had to overhear. Why are you asking your husband, Lady Who Asks Her Husband If She Should Buy Some Peaches? Does he know something about your cravings that you don't? Is your entire relationship a codependent sham based on your inability to trust your own natural bodily instincts? If you want to eat a peach, then buy a half dozen (you're wearing a $150 yoga outfit, surely you can afford a $2.00 organic peach!). If this is the current state of American marriages then I will surely be single for the rest of my vida...(slight bitterness going on here...).

The Good News is that, while I don't have a Boyfriend, I do have many sweet relationships with my many dance partners. In these very different relationships, I experience an odd, brotherly, salsa love with guys who have taught me and nurtured me through different levels of salsa dancing with mucho amor (sometimes a bit too much...). They may not know what I eat for breakfast, (or if I want to buy a freakin' peach at the Farmer's Market), but they do know when I'm trying to control (I have issues in that area), lack patience, or faith...you can't hide when dancing, salsa tells all...

Still no forecast on the child bearing years (I realized today that I don't have kids out of fear that I will forget to pick him/her/them up from day care and will, consequently, get arrested).

Just for today, I can be single and childless.

A new job title for a direly needed position in corporate America. I think Evil Flash Programmer would be better at it than myself. But I can still practice...

Just for today, I can think of new job titles.

Evil Flash Programmer has been executing Operation Undercover Programming Drama. What this entails is giving me an all clear status and saying things like, "Don't worry, yet. We'll tell you when to worry." Then he and the other programmers go back to their cubicles and whisper in serious tones like they work in the ER. I knew something was up when Super Young Tech Director asked me to buy Evil Flash Programmer a burrito (I'll do anything to make THE PROJECT: PART 2 happen). I'm all smiles and positivity as I am perfecting my Everything Is Going Smoothly act...

When I came back from buying Evil Flash Programmer his burrito, I asked him if there was anything he needed to status me on and he replied that all he needed to know was if there were any more nouns I would like to turn into verbs. Hey, all I know is that HE was the one who had a crush on Patty Duke's cousin and thought she was played by a different person (even I knew that and I never even watched the show)...as you can see, the abuse I endure to support my salsa shoes habit continues...

Just for today, I can be positive at work.

Now that THE PROJECT is sorta done (there are so many loose threads, I could sew a couple of scarves to give away for Xmas...but it looks done and that's what's important), my site is REDESIGNED (in case you haven't noticed), and I'm in the throws of (TMI alert) a hellacious (TMI = Too Much Info) period (not to get into the gory details, but...well, 'nuff said), I am experiencing a creative drought (why do I have a blog if I have nothing to say that's fit for mass consumption...?!). I've been meandering through the work day, getting distracted by pictures of whales and dreaming of new salsa shoes...I think it's called burn out.

Just for today, I'm tired.

It's like taking a bag of outdated clothes to the Good Will and buying a new outfit...I hang onto old things for way too long.

Thanks Mojo Rising for the site redesign!

Just for today, I can have a new design.