2nd
11/2/09
YES.
Thank sweet baby Jesus for a new Gossip Girl tonight. Now that I’m FINALLY caught up on the two programs I watch in the fall—GG and Mad Men—I’ve restored a sense of normalcy in my life— where the setting, characters, and plot seem to change daily.
Things are really, really strange right now. I’m back out in Orange County after my month-long work trip, basically writing and sleeping. The changing of time zones (along with the time change) has mucked my body up something awful. A voice once stentorian is now a bit meek and muffled. (Bonus points to those of you who know where that line comes from).
Right now I’m sitting in Starbucks trying to pour out 1,200 words about someone I interviewed months ago. This is what happens when deadlines are extended. Momentary relief is traded for down-the-road pain. This kind of profile usually takes me two hours. I’ve been staring at a blank screen for a weekend. I don’t believe in writer’s block. I do, however, believe in laziness, apathy, and exhaustion. I’m experiencing all three.
The last month has been an emotional roller coaster. Be glad I didn’t take you along with me. But the ground is much firmer now. The hot chocolate is delicious and the sun is warm. Pirate still licks my face first thing in the morning, and the Yankees are primed to knock the Phillies out tonight—which pleases me. I do not like the Phillies.
But I won’t be there to see it. I’ll be watching Blair’s and Chuck’s dance of deception while Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriguez exchange chastened man-hugs and hoist a trophy over their perma-tanned, overpaid bobble heads. Because as soon as the Dodgers were knocked out last week I lost interest in the whole damn thing. Funny how you can invest so much emotional energy into something every day for months and months and then poof. Gone.
I guess I’ve been doing that a lot lately, and I’m frightened by how little I miss a person I thought I loved. Maybe I didn’t. Or maybe I did—but then one day a line was crossed and a switch was finally flipped. Poof. Gone.
This way of coping with loss is certainly disorienting, but at least I’m not going to spend my evening watching another team celebrate, feeling sad about what could have been. My eyes are firmly fixed on the possibilities of next season. And, for today anyway: Ed Westwick’s outstanding nostrils.
