Single and Kicking and Screaming
Where has my wit gone? I used to write such wickedly witty posts. Now everything is so bland. With my new brunette, I'm hoping to ressurect the witty, sharp-tongued handmaiden that wove her blogs so artfully. You know, for all three of you that read it.
Halloween always makes me smile. I'm too old for candy begging, and I don't like dressing in hoochie costumes, but I do like dressing up. I like seeing adults dressed up on Halloween going about their normal lives: clowns pumping gas, Zorro getting coffee at the 7-11, bumblebees getting money out of the ATM. When I was hired on at my company full-time, my interview was on Halloween. I was dressed like a koala. It was so surreal to be sitting in my bosses office, going over important official interview stuff, impersonating a fat, gray marsupial. I can only imagine what it looked like to her, though to her credit, she acted like nothing was odd about the situation at all.
Today I was a warden in a jail. I wore green khakis tucked into my Doc Martens, a white button down shirt tucked into my pants, a belt with handcuffs hanging off them, a walkie-talkie clipped to the belt, a brown leather hat, and mirrored sunglasses. I was thinking Cool Hand Luke. My costumes are always misunderstood, though, and I was mistaken for a Mountie, a Forest Ranger, a Butterfly Collector, and someone from the movie Super Troopers. Apparenly, a giant sticker on my shirt that said "WARDEN" wasn't enough of a clue.
That's OK though. Its better than the year I was a 1970's jogger. Everyone thought I was Olivia Newton John. Now THAT is scary.
Being single sucks so much. There, I said it. It sucks. I want a boyfriend. I want someone who cares about me, who loves me, who will look me in the eyes and say "God dammit man, I love you." And I don't have that, for golly sakes. I have someone who says "I like you." I have someone that thinks kissing me is nice. I have someone who laughs at my jokes. But I do NOT have unbridled, passionate love. And I'm beginning to think that all the liking someone, and all the kisses, and all the jokes aren't enough because its not LOVE. And I don't love this person, not at all. I don't love anyone. That's the most empty feeling on earth - not so much the lack of love, but not having love for anyone. I have a lot of love inside of me, and no one to share it with. Everyone gets a little bit from me instead, but that pureness of loving one person so wholly is gone. And I miss it. I really, really miss it. Come on God...if You're going to withhold love from me for now, at least let me know why, and where I should be focusing my energy. Because You're doing this for a reason, and you'll bring love into my life when You're ready. But this is an open prayer: Why? And When? And What the heck am I supposed to do in the meantime?
Halloween always makes me smile. I'm too old for candy begging, and I don't like dressing in hoochie costumes, but I do like dressing up. I like seeing adults dressed up on Halloween going about their normal lives: clowns pumping gas, Zorro getting coffee at the 7-11, bumblebees getting money out of the ATM. When I was hired on at my company full-time, my interview was on Halloween. I was dressed like a koala. It was so surreal to be sitting in my bosses office, going over important official interview stuff, impersonating a fat, gray marsupial. I can only imagine what it looked like to her, though to her credit, she acted like nothing was odd about the situation at all.
Today I was a warden in a jail. I wore green khakis tucked into my Doc Martens, a white button down shirt tucked into my pants, a belt with handcuffs hanging off them, a walkie-talkie clipped to the belt, a brown leather hat, and mirrored sunglasses. I was thinking Cool Hand Luke. My costumes are always misunderstood, though, and I was mistaken for a Mountie, a Forest Ranger, a Butterfly Collector, and someone from the movie Super Troopers. Apparenly, a giant sticker on my shirt that said "WARDEN" wasn't enough of a clue.
That's OK though. Its better than the year I was a 1970's jogger. Everyone thought I was Olivia Newton John. Now THAT is scary.
Being single sucks so much. There, I said it. It sucks. I want a boyfriend. I want someone who cares about me, who loves me, who will look me in the eyes and say "God dammit man, I love you." And I don't have that, for golly sakes. I have someone who says "I like you." I have someone that thinks kissing me is nice. I have someone who laughs at my jokes. But I do NOT have unbridled, passionate love. And I'm beginning to think that all the liking someone, and all the kisses, and all the jokes aren't enough because its not LOVE. And I don't love this person, not at all. I don't love anyone. That's the most empty feeling on earth - not so much the lack of love, but not having love for anyone. I have a lot of love inside of me, and no one to share it with. Everyone gets a little bit from me instead, but that pureness of loving one person so wholly is gone. And I miss it. I really, really miss it. Come on God...if You're going to withhold love from me for now, at least let me know why, and where I should be focusing my energy. Because You're doing this for a reason, and you'll bring love into my life when You're ready. But this is an open prayer: Why? And When? And What the heck am I supposed to do in the meantime?
posted by The Semi-Pro Chef at Monday, October 31, 2005
1 Comments:
Being single is the new black! Or is it wear plenty of mauve this winter and you’ll hook up with your soul mate? No that couldn’t be it, it must be the new black that all the fashionistas rave about every year! Like day-glo-green is the new black, or like two years ago it was orange and did you ever notice that the “new black” is usually a color that people in some maximum security facility tend to be dressed in for maximum visual ability? Hmmmm, makes you think, no? As for being single – it’s a tad better than bein’ in a relationship that isn’t right and then you feel that you’re stuck and…
Just do like I do and wear black, its so much easier!
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