10 Days in the Valley

Ten days without a post. That's gotta be some sort of new record for me. Never have I been rendered so speechless as by this boring summer. What can I say? There are many trees, lots of drug traffic (literally traffic, as in cars coming and going to and fro the dealers), much tearing around leaving black marks and ruining perfectly good motors into the wee hours of the morning. Same old. Same old. The incessant chirp of peepers (because I'm living in a cedar swamp kind of) wears on my nerves.

Peepers! They're not just for nighttime anymore!

I find it rather chilly here most of the time. I know people all around the province are sweltering, but I haven't been one of them. Every day I throw open the windows and invite the heat into the house . . . but I'm lucky if I get up to 75 degrees by 7pm and then the whole thing starts to cool off again. Lots of shade here. I am constantly goose pimpled and seeking heavier sweaters. In a true heatwave, this is the place to be. I've been here for two weeks and nearing the end of this little experiment in kitty land just as I start to settle in and finally feel comfortable, just as the kitty begins to show signs that maybe she's ok with me being here and she understands I'm her girl as far as food and water goes. Isn't that always the way? It'll be nice to get home and sleep in my own bed. Something to look forward to at least.

I feel like summer came and went and I missed it. I started with such excitement and anticipation. This was going to be THE SUMMER! I was going places! Doing things! And then nothing happened. I just kinda want it all over now, so at least other people will stop doing things without me and we'll all be on the same boring page again. All this freezing to death stuff has brought on premature feelings of autumn . . . how I hate autumn! It's my worse season. So depressing. Just die already and snow!

Ok, enough of that, moving on to a different rant . . . what is up with me and married men? Like seriously. It's like I've got on a t-shirt that says "Kiss me if you're married!" It's always been like that. You can trace my married man history all the way back to 1983. I have a theory. It has to do with my fear of comittment. I give off an aura that says I'm not looking for anything long-term, married men pick up on that as they also are not looking for long-term. They hit on me. I am disgusted by the lack of comittment in marriage today thereby becoming even more fearful of comittment, afraid to trust . . . it's a vicious circle. How do I break free? Just when I think I'm ready to face the fear, the worst thing that can happen is I'll get hurt, been there, done that, lived . . . then some married guy comes out of the woodwork to show me just how silly the whole monagomy myth is and makes the inevitable possibility of being hurt all that more real, and I beat a hasty retreat behind the wall. Just once I'd like to meet a guy that doesn't or wouldn't cheat under the right circumstances. I don't know that he exists. And then I think maybe that's not even the ultimate goal, maybe I just need to find someone who will just be honest, whether monogamy plays into the relationship or not. A little honesty. How freaking refreshing would that be?

Can you tell I've been eating nothing but junk for two weeks? Yes, I'm a little off :-) I'm sure hormonal levels will return to normal once I've broken up with the french fry and rededicated myself to the romaine.

Mood: wacky
Drinking: coffee, starbucks, french roast, black
Listening To: jeepers peepers and . . . TRAFFIC!
Hair: headbanded like an 80's mike reno