Dawson on the Run

i am infuriated.

and by infuriated i mean a little bit irritated- like enough to care about- which is a lot for me.

i love email correspondence. it is unintrusive, but spontaneous, revealing, and informative. when you email someone, it's uninterrupted. you can put all the thoughts you want out there without altering them based on the recipient's response. this is a great way to keep in touch and even strengthen relationships (although you might still be a social retard, like me).

how can people take such a meaningful and thoughtful work of art and turn it into necessary business-like communication? i'm talking friends people, not my boss. i'm not writing to my boss about my sticky syrup-fingers or the witch in my closet. if i were, i'd probably like my job more, but eh... (there's the insurmountable apathy i spoke of.) so when i write about aunt jemima or broomie mcbruja and get back "i'll meet you friday at 8" that SUCKS! because when i read that, i'll add in what you failed to mention- "my time is too precious for your nonsense, and i don't like your emails, but kissing you friday at 8 sounds good. now leave me alone until then."

so be creative and kind, and let those lowercase letters flow. laytah.

my thoughts are clouded with sleep and heavy with the entire pizza i just ate. (i just skipped the weigh-in altogether this week.)

and in this slightly deluded state, i am more attuned to the good in the world. the sticky clicking of my flip-flops, his voice in the dark, the way my hair smells, the smooth bliss of fresh sheets, dove dark chocolate sweetness, the sun shining through the fresh rain... i need to document my glass half-full state in case i need it later. you know, when the gloomy and cynical joy (ha!) that i know and love returns. but she's around less and less lately. does that happen as we get older? am i going to become one of those happy go lucky all is good in the world people? ah, the horror, the horror! have a beautiful day. hmm...maybe it was the yoga this morning? do some yoga. ehren, do a lot of yoga. bye!

so i got asked out for the first time.

it was a couple of days ago after a show, completely out of the blue. since i am the only person my age in existence that has never been asked out before, it was a momentous occasion. i didn't want to go out with him though, so i said that there was someone i was interested in. (how great for me that i didn't even have to lie, because i wouldn't have, and that's rude.)

then, 5 minutes later, a really great comic came over just to introduce himself and say hi- totally friendly, nice (not to mention cute) guy. blue guy comes back over and starts talking to nice guy saying how great it is that i like nice guy, and how lucky nice guy is, how he hopes we're happy, and how he's sorry he butted in but he didn't know we were together. how psycho of him, how totally embarassing for me, and how freaky for nice guy!

ugh, i didn't really have time to explain myself because it's hard to just laugh your way out of the situation when a super psycho is involved. i've seen both of them since, and they literally walk in circles, and spirals, and squares to avoid me. (yes, i know the difference between literal and figurative) can you picture this? maybe you have to be me to appreciate this story.

ah well. do i give sidney another chance tonight? no! but michael vartan is a yes!

ah, easter...

the day the easter bunny rose from the dead to bring chocolate eggs to good little boys and girls. the day jesus painted hard boiled eggs to hide outside his tomb and when the apostles found them all he gave them easter baskets full of jelly beans and peeps. going to church and singing "here comes peter cotton tail" while the priest inevitably makes a joke about all those who, for today only, are practicing catholics.

yeah well, i don't need to practice. those songs are ingrained in my brain- i don't even know where they come from, but my sugar-coated lips always knows the right words to chant. i guess i'm lucky that my performance is so believable even without this "practice" he speaks of.

next year though, the mall really should be open. duh, it's where the easter bunny lives. i wouldn't even bother him, i mean, if he were busy making candy or polishing his crucifix- i just really wanted to return a tank top to pacific sun.

every saturday morning, i am faced with the same dilemma.

i can either get up and embrace the failure that surely awaits me at the weekly weigh-in meeting, or sleep through it, ignoring the guilt about the money i've wasted paying for the weight loss program and the tummy still full of chili cheese fries from a late night out.

and so i've invented a compromise. fortunately, i was at my very fattest when i first joined, and so i was wearing the requisite fat person heavy sweatpants, sweatshirt, and sneakers. i lost 2 legitimate pounds the first week, and wore the sweatpants and sweatshirt back. since then, the self control thing has not been working for me, but what is working is slowly shedding pound of clothing. as the weather gets nice, i naturally lose the sweatshirt, trade the sweatpants for baggy capris, and the sneakers for some flips. that's about 4 pounds. my saturday regimen now includes two cups of coffee and 2 bowls of fiber cereal hoping to erase any trace of the friday night binge.

so far it's been working, but i fear my luck has run out. this week, i'm either going to need to actually eat less, or next week i'll be showing up in my underwear! yeah, i gotta go make a stop at victoria's secret. later.

today is your lucky day. my stalking has gotten so juicy that now i actually need to spare you the details. instead you are here to read about the zoo, which is ironic because the zoo does play a part in the stalking story, but that's right- i'm not supposed to talk about that.

i met 3 brilliant blonde california kids today at the woodley park zoo. they kicked my ass. they knew everything about the animals and were like testing me all the time. they knew strange facts and could compare them to all the encyclopedia stuff they had read and all the other zoos they had been to. not only that, but they were smarter than me in real life too. they kept proposing theories to answer the unanswerable, tricking me with riddles, and doing statistical analyses with the data on the animal info charts. oh yeah, and they are 11, 9, and 6. yes, well, i admit defeat.

however, i do not grab my crotch and scratch in public every 5 minutes, so i feel that at least in one way, i have them beat. a crab says what?

now i should go study some art for tomorrow's trip to the national gallery. that is, assuming it's an art museum...

the only thing better than teaching is not teaching. hooray for spring break!

instead of being in 3rd period right now, i am just waking up from an un-alarm-clock-interrupted sleep. i had 3 nightmares that i remember, which were quite enjoyable. first, my friend was being mauled by a bear. then, my mom had recovered and was on vacation in disney world. last, my brother and i went on a "ride" that simulated the terrorist attack near the pentagon, but no one told you ahead of time that it was only a "ride." so now you think i'm sick and twisted because i said they were enjoyable. that was the wrong word. i should say interesting- fascinating even. how did my brain come up with this stuff? i love figuring out what in my real life would trigger certain apects of those nightmares. and so yes i wake up a bit disturbed and delusional, but really, that's nothing new. it's just that instead of waking up at 6 a.m. dreading the horror show that awaits me at school, i wake up at 9 sick to my stomach, blog a little bit, go back to sleep, drink some coffee, and the world is bright, shiny, and new. have a good one!

who are these people that have voted for the "industries" of my blog?! and what the hell does it mean that my "valuation" is B$ 4,909? i'm pretty sure it doesn't mean my blog makes 4,909 billion dollars... or maybe that's big bucks. is it code for where i live and the time that the hired hitmen are coming to take me out? (yeah, the sidney bristow fantasy again) and i'm worth 4,909 billion dollars if they do it? wishful thinking. i digress. but you know- you've been here before.

i'm not funny onstage either, although i did hit myself in the mouth with the microphone. that's awesome. my tooth still hurts.

jon stewart makes me feel better though. we hang out every night. he's here now- gotta go.