A few posts ago or so, I wrote how I've been suffering under a pretty severe case of writer's block, where I really have no new ideas, a terrifying situation for someone who constantly came up with something, anything! just to get past whatever was making me stuck. Today, I think I realized that the thing that has been making me stuck is Me. I was blaming it on work and how much I hate it and that I'm constantly tired and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, but the truth of the matter is- It's Me. An idea hit me today, and it was powerful enough for me to sit down at my computer and just start writing, just start to get those first few paragraphs down. Once I got so tired I had to stop, because writing is very draining for me, I went and looked at something that I had begun prior to my going to England and was astounded to see that what I was writing, in principle, was the same. In fact, I can take the voice from the one and stick it in my new one and it will still manage to work, that is how similar they are. The theme in both of my new stories is very simple. It is me being honest with me, breaking down what has really been going on in my heart and my head and my hormones and just saying, "Hey! Wake up! You're a beautiful person! Step out of the prison you have created for yourself and LEAP!"
Don't know if I'm there yet, but I would like to be. I think just facing it and being honest and saying that I deserve the best of everything and to stop being what the hell I have been is a pretty big first step. I somehow have to find the strength to leap, even it's just across a crack in the pavement.

It's a war that I wage inside of myself. I am, I am almost loathe to admit it but it's so disgustingly obvious, a Good Girl. Pretty much, I am the definition of what a good girl is- I don't sleep around, go to church most Sundays, drink to excess only on specific occasions, dress prettily - I LOVE to dress prettily! Period pieces are even better, my current fav. being that whole fifties thing of flowy skirts, pointy high heeled shoes and softly curled hair- but I digress- I am who I am and I discovered when I was in NYC that I really and truly am such a woman, but there are times when it just kind of sucks! I get so tired of it all, of everything, but I think, quite frankly, as all of my various worlds are in an uproar, that this new wanting to not be the girl next door most likely has something to do with it. Then again, it could just very well be hormones. Damned if I know anymore. Actually, do I even care which it might be? I don't think I do. I think I need some corrupting. Hmmm... God knows I won't have time once grad. school starts this fall. I'm off to dance suggestively to my new Stereophonics c.d. Ciao.

Me in Stratford, good Ol' Shakespeare country!
There are more, many, many more but as per usual I'm having technical difficulties. I'm also having spelling difficulties thanks to two glasses of wine. I had such a marvelous time! Damn, I hate work! I shall try to post more pictures at a later date. Right now, I'm shattered!

Today as I was coming home from work, I was walking down Electric Avenue (cue music) and I spotted all of these singles on the ground- two or three folded clumps and a singleton. I looked around to see if anyone was near and then picked them up. I felt guilty, thinking that someone probably needs them but there was no one around to ask. I admit it. I put them in my pocket and continued on after thinking about what I should do. After a few blocks and many hundred of feet, I pulled them out of my pocket and counted. $22- singles, just laying on the ground. It's many hours and I still feel somewhat bad after I try to comfort myself with the fact that they were laying there and anyone else would have picked them up and how many times in my lifetime have I dropped money that someone else picked up and on and on it goes.

I'm leaving on Friday. My plane for NY takes off at five and my flight from JFK takes off at 9:30 p.m. I'll be landing at Heathrow at about ten to nine U.K. time on Saturday, which means in Buffalo time it'll be ten to 4 in the morning. I can't believe it. My head is spinning and I haven't even begun to pack, which is so very unlike me. It's the first time in 6 years that I've been in England. In my entire life, I have never gone this long without going to England to see my family. I've missed so much. Wish me luck and a bon voyage. Wish me safety and prosperous journey. I doubt I'll be able to post whilst I'm away. I'll have to jot a bit before I leave. I am sure I shall.

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.