enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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sweet bitters

So I've come to the following conclusion in the last 24 hours: I'm officially bitter.

I don't know exactly how I've suddenly become willing and able to admit this, but it's true. I thought that starting to date again would be good for me--and granted, I haven't done much of it yet (about 10 hours with two guys)--but I am left drawing the same old conclusion, once again: All available, single guys anywhere near my age (and, if the truth be told, many years beyond it) are emotionally immature. Gah! It seems to be true: The difference between men and boys is the size of their toys!

Gah! Gah! and double Gah!

I'm seriously, seriously disappointed. So much so that I am having difficulty collecting data that absolutely must be collected and analysed this dreadful long weekend.

So my thoughts about the near future have turned on a dime. I find myself drawn, drawn, drawn to seriously considering pursuing some art studies and travel. I mean, I'm feeling really creative, interested in Paris (believe it or not, not a huge interest for me before, relative to other cities), yadda yadda. I'm playing again with my clothes. I'm crazy about this blog . I'm desperately liking all of those blogs that track street fashion. I mean, I feel crazy-creative right now (and not in a bipolar sort of way, since I am not bipolar (though one might suspect this from my diary)).

I feel at peace. I know, I know--this rather contradicts the realization that I am bitter. I suppose it is just that I am thinking about saying, "The fuck with men!" and moving to Paris. Tell me, did Collette ever say, "The fuck with men!"?? I find I know too little about Coll3tte. I find I know too little about too many things. I've been reading too many gawd-awful 60-page, dead-boring economics articles with models that take two days to go through. Sometimes it feels as though my brain has been pan-fried. But no more! I will liberate my poor brain once I have money in my pocket again! Brain, be free!

OK. How do I know that I am bitter? I went for a run tonight and I actually screamed back at a few of the drunken undergrads who felt a need to taunt or flirt with me on the road. (My usual response is laughter or a gentle reply.)

I have just commenced running again following the cancer scare and the major injury that seems to have healed. I am not running very much, in order to ensure that the problem not become a chronic injury. But I ran tonight, and the first realization that I had as I turned the corner of my street was that I was doing it because I was lonely again--I had stopped trusting and liking that guy who I had thought was so great--and that I'd been filling my loneliness of the past few years with my running.

Actually, in a way I have probably been filling, with running, my sense of hopelessness about having a quality relationship with a half-interesting, confident, trustworthy, together male. It's just so much easier to be busy than to look around and realize that most of the single women I know are worthy of far better than most of the single men whom I meet. ARGHHHH. It is so, so sad.

That's all I have to say right now. Others could justifiably berate me for the sentiments expressed in the last paragraph. I must be wrong. I just feel right.

The feeling has been compounded by the fact that a guy who I have been trying to brush off--and quite directly, I had thought--actually became angry and irrational with me on the street the other night because I am DEFINITELY not interested in him. He subsequently emailed me and then woke me up with a phone call this morning. I do not like being stalked. I am glad that I am leaving this university in nine days.

I realize that everything is my own fault, by the way. I am easy prey for weak guys because, try as I may, I do not feel pretty or very good about myself. Desperate guys can smell this. It's a law of nature or something.

11:36 p.m. - 2006-08-05

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