Under the Arch

You may have noticed my lack of writing lately. I have some serious writer's block, it's just as annoying for me as it is for you. Since I can't seem to write in a narrative way, I'm just going to do a stream of consciousness thing today and we're all just going to have to deal. Hopefully soon, I'll figure out how to write while twitterpated.

The thing is, I'm like any other girl in the beginning of a relationship. All I want to talk about is the relationship. And no one wants to hear about how sweet he is or how much fun I'm having. Frankly, all the sighing and grinning at nothing is making ME want to throw up. I'm really overwhelmed, because this last match.com match-up has moved along rather fast in the emotion department. It makes me nervous, but I'm not shutting down or wanting to run so I'm looking at this as personal growth no matter how the relationship turns out.

I went with my friend Jessica to see a show at the Pageant last week and had a great time, but I've discovered that I am not meant for mosh pits. The show was a guy, a DJ, I guess who called himself Girl Talk, which was a giant dance party of sorts. My friend wanted to get up on stage to dance, unfortunately, so did every other underage idiot in the place. (My friend is not an idiot, she's a brilliant writer who asked me the other day if she could write a book about me one day. Why she would want to write a book about me is beyond my comprehension, but I'm sure if she wrote it, it would be amazing.) Anyway, the floor near the stage suddenly resembled a cattle chute and it was all I could do to keep upright. Madness ensued and I was seriously pissed off, elbowing anyone who dared to shove me and pulling a girl out from under the trampling herd when she reached down by my feet to get her cell phone. Other than a wrenched knee, I was fine, but I've discovered I'm too old for that sort of insanity and I'll go back to the sort of concerts I usually enjoy, which are generally more adult. After it calmed down a little and the crowd realized that security wouldn't allow anymore people on the stage, we had a little room to maneuver and Jess and I danced until I couldn't breathe, occasionally shaking my head at the combination of music. (He mixed Kelly Clarkson and Nine Inch Nails together, then Journey and Lil Wayne, or vice-versa, I can't remember now. Reading this, you would think it was awful, but it wasn't.)

The new guy, S, took me to dinner and a movie Friday night, we went to see Clint Eastwood's new movie, Gran Torino. It was really good. Sunday was spent at his place watching football. (I know, I actually watched football on tv, on purpose. Granted, I had a Glamour magazine in my lap, but still, football.) And I had fun. We ate pizza and watched football and I had a great time. Twitterpated. It's the only explanation.

Oh, and the new camera is a Nikon D40. Photos coming soon, I promise.