Honesty.

Current Mood: Moody (Duh)

I can’t sleep. Again. I worry that this may be becoming a problem. Though on top of my usual chai frappe/nibs lunch-of-champions:

-Ali brought me a grande cinnamon dolce latte for sending airport fares his way.
-Some local chocolatier stopped by the hotel and dropped off little blue and red elephant shaped confections for my sampling pleasure.
-And Steve’s impromptu surprise birthday party allowed mad cake scarfing.

So maybe my insomnia is merited.

::sigh:: Anyways- I really wished I played some sort of instrument. Then- when the mean reds hit, I could express myself in some brooding song. Instead I have bent half the spines of the majority of my forks into little ‘ROCK ON’ gestures. Hm, this doesn’t seem have the same effect. I really desire an outlet

*glances at the glass of rum sitting next to her*

I highly suspect, however, this moodiness stems from the duodecennial celebration of my lack of motherhood. (And if that’s actually a word, I will be so impressed with myself I’ll... do something cool. I’ll feel better in a week. I promise.

But for the time being, here’s what I’m thinking about- I know what people are setting themselves up for (‘people’ being educated, liberated almost-30-something women) by uttering the controversial phrase: I want someone to save me. I am not saying this. But not for the typical reasons.

My jaded side says I’ve given up on the possibility that anyone would hold up under pressure. My logical side says no one could hold up under that kind of pressure. After ridiculously trying to mold Chris into this ‘perfect-for-me’ image I had of him for *years*, I’ve finally accepted there isn’t anyone perfectly tailored for me. Closer inspection of myself makes me think I might not even be able to respect someone who would readily volunteer to be the salvation of a ‘damaged’ woman.

So no, I don’t want someone to save me. I want someone to *inspire* me.
But I also feel I should in some way be worthy of this inspiration in the first place.

I had this theory (a long while back) that we all had 3 descriptors we were looking for. Hot, asian, bassist. Sweet, simple, brunette. As soon as we found someone who fulfilled them- we’d do whatever it took to hold on to them;) So I guess, as soon as I find someone looking for someone who is ::looks up profile:: *ahem* wandering, indulgent, and candy-coated all will be fabulous.