Lately, I've been thinking. Not a big surprise. I think a great deal, actually, but lately I've been thinking about, and wondering, if my being a romantic is a good thing or a detriment. I truly believe in love. I truly believe that there IS someone out there for everyone, maybe even particular people at particular stages in our lives, but that that love is out there. But for me, in my life, believing what I do, I often get very sad about it all. I see my friends, who seemingly have found what I'm seeking and I feel like I'll be alone forever. Is there anything worse than that feeling? The logical, rational side of my brain says, "But you have your friends and so you're not alone!" but I still feel alone in the way that I wish to be part of a pair. I watch the ducks on Smoke's Creek and see them in pairs and can't help but smile and feel that that is what we are all seeking. But is it something we should actively seek? I'm not actually, actively seeking anything but that momentum is there, propelling me foward, thinking, "Is He the one? Could he love me for who I am?" I hate asking myself that question. Frankly, I am tired of it. But still I believe. It's part of who I am I suppose. I am a romantic. I am also becoming jaded. It's the jaded thing with which I'm really taking issue. And round and round it goes in my head. Where is stops, no one knows. And so continues my dramedy.

And I'm not talking about the movie, either. There are many distinct ethnicitiies in Lackawanna. It's a surprisingly diverse place filled with poverty, considerable wealth, generational ties (for example, sections of my family have been in Lackawanna since the early 1900's, scary and yet true!) and new comers. We are a nutty city, who can boast with a sick sort of pride that we are home to the ugliest building on the face of the planet AND it's our City Hall! (If you can find uglier, I want photographic evidence, and it can't be a run-down, abandoned building either! It's got to be in use.) Because I live and work there, I have noticed lately that two separate and distinct ethnicities tend to call me, and my co-workers, "Honey". They would be the Arabians and the Slavs. The Arabians have been here for as long as I can remember, but the Slavic people have only recently, the past ten years or so, been in the city. I don't know, it's just odd to me that they, both groups, do this. "Honey" is generally a term of endearment, so to have it used to casually, well, I just don't know what to think of the thing. Curious.

Mmmmm... Sleeeeeeeeeeppppppp........ calling to me, my post-lunch slump in full-effect. I could eat a bowl full of sugar and follow it with a six pack of Mountain Dew and still want to sleep after lunch. It happens everyday and it always has. I just wish I didn't have to fight it every day, but I do and so I do. It's at times like this when random Shakespeare quotes pop into my head for no apparent reason and the strangest, most fleeting thoughts flit through my head. Hmmmm.... but today is Friday, payday and I'm already broke. How sad is that? I bought 100 pounds sterling today and it cost me $200.00. But, in two weeks, I will be fully packed and ready to go and I'll have my 100 pounds sterling with me, ready for my trip. I cannot wait! And so my wandering, meandering thoughts have come to an end. For now at least. Mmmmm...... sssssllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeppppppppppppp....

Okay, Game On. Bank crush came in today as it still single! Whoo Hoo! I had decided that the crush was over, because, frankly, I was acting like an idiot! He'd walk in and my heart would start to race, my hands would get shakey, I'd get this surge of adrenaline, and turn beat red, and not be able to stop smiling! Basically, I was acting like 12 year old spazz! And then I heard he was getting engaged and I said, "That's it. It's over. I'm myself again. I'm acting like an idiot anyway!" He asked, she said no. He's single! I don't know if I can *not* act like a 12 year old spazz, but I'm going to do my best. Game On!

I detest writer's block, and yet mine seems to be an ever constant in any of my work. Even with this, I feel as though I am reaching for ideas (originally, I had typo-ed "Ideals". Hmmm.... perhaps I am reaching for ideals- anyway-) It used to be that I would sit and stare and re-read and eventually- *POW*- I would smash through that seemingly impenetrable wall and begin to write, to create, to flourish. Or, I would begin a new idea and work until I was stuck and then go back to a previous story, or draw, or something- anything, but I could get past it. I have so many projects, so many stories, that are started, but that isn't what's really worrying me. What's worrying me is that there aren't really any New ideas coming, nothing that grabs me enough to sit down and WRITE! This hasn't happened since I first discovered I loved writing in the third grade. Which, ironically, is also when I discovered I loved reading and I haven't been reading very much either, not really. Again, things are started and not finished. I don't like this pattern that is evolving, not at all. Suggestions, e-peeps? I'm starting to feel rather lost.