30 fucking years.
So.
Let's catch you up on what you already know.
Bus boyfriend was no longer bus boyfriend because he was married. I was actually pretty happy about that as I'm always happy to see people who are loved by someone else. Even if I may have taken a liking to whatever story of him I made up... because I don't really know this dude. He's a familiar stranger for all intents and purposes. The mind numbing twist in that whole small yet oddly big event is that I'm pretty sure this dude thinks I'm fucking crazy. Why? Because shortly after the "purple note" and "marriage revelation" I was totally amused by something he wrote on his blog and since I was writing like a maniac at that time I decided to expound on it... in his comments section. Clearly, I'm an idiot. Sometimes I get a spontaneous feeling to reach out to people in a complete non sexual/initmate way and it just doesn't come across correctly. I'm very enthusiastic when I meet new people and sometimes, especially if you're not an actor/comedian- you might think I'm a little- who fucking knows what. But once you get to know me, you get it. "She's not crazy intense, she's just very excitable and enjoys the shit outta people".
The punishment for trying to be a bold 27 year old? Having to continue to run into this dude over and over again. I know we both equally internally gut spaz when this happens- its like the fucking WORST people. And just when I think I've rerouted myself in order to completely avoid him (down to both of us standing at different ends of the train platform) all we do is continue to run into another. EVEN NOW, 3 years later. I wish I could slip him another little purple note that says "whatever you're thinking, it's completely unintentional... I'm not crazy. Thank you."
So guy or Mike or whatever your name is. In the case you ever happen to wander onto this blog- because why the fuck not the odds seem totally likely... you're safe. I was into you for a heart beat until I discovered you were married. You being married was not a bummer, but rather awesome. I have a sneaking suspicion your wife is tailor made for you and probably stellar. You're the best photographer on the PLANET, I love your work but I will never be able to share that with you because I'm pretty sure you piddle with fear every time you see me. Peace be with you brotha. Oh and p.s. I realize it seems like I'm following you straight to your house now but the truth is my daughters school JUST SO HAPPENS to be in your apparent neighborhood. BECAUSE GOD LOVES TO LAUGH AT MY DISCOMFORT. okay? cool.
Moving on.
30 happened in a way that can only be described as me digging my feet into the ground and begging life to please pause for a moment. I didn't want to turn 30. But now that I am- so what. It feels pretty good and I even found a wrinkle and didn't cry about it. So there. Take that official adulthood.
I'm making more money than I ever have. I'm thinner than I've ever been and I regularly go on castings. Phew. I didn't totally fuck it up.
Not to mention my kid is alive and well and thriving. I'm the fucking luckiest woman on earth. Besides Angelina Jolie. (and a few million other women)
Poetry might come. I'm for sure feeling like writing again. Let's hope my drive and ambition line up like the stars and make this shit a go.
Word.
