We'll Be Back Momentarily

One should never settle. For love, or for a shitty bloody mary when all you want is a mimosa.

I have a problem. It's called insecurity. It's like the plague, making me work out, making me say loud things at inappropriate times for no reason. Once in a while, I'll get comfortable and be brilliant, but most of the time it's the insecure stuff that people remember.

For the last year, I've been terribly insecure. My moments of true brilliance are fewer and farther between. My work has suffered, my friendships have suffered and the only thing that's benefitted, really, is my body. It's a size six. According to my brain and as a result of some horrible social conditioning brought on equally by contemporary society and my mother,this should be the solution to my unhappiness.

As should burying my anger, or my sorrows in work. But all that does is make me shitty at my job. So, I ask myself every once in awhile, what's the use? I should just quit. I should give up and give in and settle for being miserable, settle for not having the answer or the flat tummy that will never, ever appear. Let myself be fat. But I'm not happy then either and my grocery bills are higher.

My point is, that I think all of us yearn for those moments of brilliance. I was talking to Jackie today about how Chris lights up when he's discussing binary code on computers or how happy Michelle is to see first pass pages. I used to be like that -- genuinely excited and passionate.

But something in me got really fucking insecure when Todd dumped me. And its not entirely his fault; I'm finally GETTING that he's an idiot. I've lived a life too long where the only time I'm super happy is when the guy I want has called me back, paid attention to me, given me validation.

We all have our issues; I hope you, my dear readers, will begrudge me mine. I'm not saying that they are more or less important than some truly tragic things my friends have suffered, especially at the hands of other people at very innocent and influential times. But, as the wisdom in ST ELMO'S FIRE states, it's my time at the edge. Some pretty ripe self-induced drama is going on. And, as the drama queen I've always yearned to be comes out, I'm paying less and less attention to what really's happening to me.

I'm suppressing anger - at Todd and at various other people. I'm passive aggressive. That's what I do. But I've also been really selfish. Also part of my personality - I'm self involved. Always have been. Selfish pretty much comes as part of the bargain. But its been in mass quantities as of late, and I never accounted for how it affects everyone around me. And I'd like to apologize for that, here, publicly.

I'm sorry if I've been bitchy about my weight. Sometimes it just seems like all the hard work I'm doing doesn't do a damn thing but make me look like everyone else in New York. It's stupid but it matters TO ME that I like the vessel my soul is running around in. I know its wrong but I do get validation from getting hit on. It makes me feel good not bad, even though I bitch and moan about it. That's just part of who I am.

I fear sometimes that I'll never get over Todd but today I realized even more that I'm in love with the idea of him, not him the person. I couldn't remember one non-sexual conversation with him that made me feel one eighth of what I feel when I talk to "my Berger". It sucks that I didn't fall in love with him instead of Todd because I'm sure he would have treated me better. (For the record, I think Chris would be damn good to fall in love with too.)

But that's the thing about love. You can't decide. I'm going to wonder how Todd is doing every day for a long time. But moreover, I'm going to wonder who I can watch the Food Channel with on Sunday afternoons. Because that's what I miss. Always having a date on Saturday nights, always knowing that someone out there loves you and finds you attractive no matter if you weigh 165 or 115, if you fart so much the whole bar smells, or that you save green olive juice to drink it like wine later, swirling it in your glass.

That's the real me. I know I've been shortsighted for those of you who know her, but those of you that don't - and know me in real life - take a look. She'll be back after the commercial break, crying in her really pink room with Rob Lowe.

(Thanks, KJ, for the mimosa.)