bizarre personal ramblings




These dang Theroux documentaries are going to be the death of me. I’ve literally not eaten and done nothing with my free time but watch them since last night. I ran some errands this morning and then went right back to the docs.

I’m either going to grow into my sofa or starve to death, I tell you what.

EDIT: I just started the ‘Weird Weekends’ about swingers, and I’m dying. Louis looks so young, and also very worried…

do you ever feel so lonely that you constantly crave physical contact? not in a sexual way, but just sitting next to someone with your knees touching, leaning against someone, just feeling something there? and you’re so lonely you just feel empty as soon as they’re gone?


I thought it would be nice to care for a living thing, and since my orchid doesn’t show any signs of life until it randomly decides to flower every couple years, I felt it was time to find something a little more interactive. Dogs aren’t allowed in my building, and I’m allergic to cats (I also really dislike them). So I got myself a marimo.

I’m naming it Gus, even though it feels like a lady marimo (I know, I know, of course algae doesn’t have a gender), because is there a name more awesome than Gus The Marimo? OK, maybe Jo-Jo The Marimo, but I’m making an executive decision here. Jo-Jo can be it’s middle name.

Anyway, here’s Gus, in his/her presently very small bowl. I got a big fishbowl, too, and once I get it cleaned and get some more stones and maybe a little diver or a castle or something, Gus will be big pimpin’, baby.

You know that feeling when a relatively small disappointment or rejection throws you into a completely awful negative feedback loop inside your head, and then you get angry at yourself for being a self-pitying, self-indulgent asshole at your age when you’re supposed to be a grown-ass, functioning adult, which only drives you further into your death spiral of self-loathing and depression?

No? Ok, nevermind then.

I am getting sicker. There is a buzzing, constant undercurrent of pain these days. My joints hurt, my legs are much weaker than they were just months ago. Sometimes it hurts when I breathe. I have to stand up slowly, in stages, or my vision swirls and I’m afraid I’ll pass out.

The doctor prescribes so many medicines designed to keep me alive. They make me feel like I’m dying.

I have things to look forward to, people to look forward to, friends to share it all with. There are trips, parties, adventures ahead. I know I can hold on for them as long as my body cooperates. But what comes after, when the pain is still there but the anticipation is gone? What will fill that space? What will make enduring worthwhile?

Every year that passes, I know I don’t have many more. But now it feels like I can count the grains of sand as they slip through the hourglass. It’s my duty to make each one a celebration, but I am so tired.

I’m standing on the shore, watching the tide ebb, wondering where it goes when it’s pulled from my body and back out to sea.

Seriously, these things only happen to me

I ordered some delivery (because I just realized I haven’t eaten all day and it’s tomorrow already), and because it’s late, the delivery driver called to ask me to come down and meet him (because in this city, delivery drivers get robbed and/or killed sometimes when they come upstairs late at night). So I did, no problem.

The delivery driver was a guy about my age, and (this has never happened before) he engaged me in a long conversation, then finally asked me if I wanted to hang out and play pool sometime.

He’s a Ph.D. candidate in accounting, is half Greek and half Bangladeshi (from Greece), has only been in the US for like a year, and is very earnest and nice.

I am pretty sure I just made a new friend out of a pizza guy at midnight. Things like this only seem to happen to me.

Call me crazy, but it seems like all the really impressive events, the let-the-kids-stay-up-late moments in history, are all drifting further and further out of our grasp and into the ether of time, with fewer attendees to recall what it felt like to be there. The Kennedy assassination, WWII, the Moon landings, these things are rapidly becoming pictures in a book with nobody to stand witness.

And what do we have for our generation, to tell our children “where we were when it happened” and watch their eyes light up with the glow of discovery? The OJ trial? The *end* of US manned space flight? Pathetic. We’re producing nothing but debt and corporations. There are no more beautiful or hideous boundary-pushing moments, just a gloomy march to fiscal insecurity punctuated by moments of unbelievable ignorance or outright prejudice.

I guess I’ll just tell and re-tell my kids about that one time I stood on the White House sidewalk to celebrate a black president. And my kids won’t be impressed, because they’ll never be able to imagine a time when we couldn’t or didn’t have one.

Great. I’ve depressed myself.

In which Miss Bunny nervously anticipates.

So my first date with Astronaut Navy Guy (ANG) is tomorrow night. I’m already nervous. I hope I don’t ruin it.

Also, he works at the Pentagon, and I seriously hope that means he has to wear his uniform to work and doesn’t have time to change clothes before the date. Just saying.

I slept with a boy last night for the first time in a very long time. Not in a sex way, but just in a warm, comfortable tangle of arms and legs way. He was a sweet, adorable young metalhead boy from out of town who had good grammar and loved Ghost and smelled like laundry detergent and church incense. Before we fell asleep, he pulled out his phone and put on “Ritual” and “Elizabeth,” and we cuddled up together and waved our hands in the air. It felt wonderful to go to sleep with someone’s arms wrapped around me, listening to his heart.

It made me realize how long it’s been since I had someone to go to bed with, how much I miss how nice it is, and that I’m actually a lot more lonely than I would ever admit.

Ugh. Went to a party last night, and three separate times during that party I had occasion to say this to someone: “Okay, you know what? This conversation is over. I’m done with you.”

Once was when a dude started talking about how the US Navy is actively giving all our military secrets to China because Obama is selling them.

Once was when a dude tried to tell me that it’s impossible to lose 9 pounds in 2 weeks (I just did, so…)

The third was when a guy called me “sweetheart” during a political argument. Fuuuuuuck you, buddy.

I got out of that house tout de suite when, while standing in line for the bathroom, I looked into the room to my left to see a guy in a leather jockstrap tied to the ceiling and some kind of gross weird sex thing going on. NOBODY TOLD ME THIS WOULD BE HAPPENING AT THIS PARTY. I am way freaked out by fetish people. And then I had to push past a fat lady with her tits hanging out just to get out of there.

I don’t know why I ever leave my house, to be honest with you.

In which your humble narrator talks on the phone.

So the week before Halloween, I posted an ad on a local site, looking to meet new people. I’ve lived here 4 1/2 years but never really cultivated any relationships outside the smallish group of friends I’d moved here with. I got a lot of replies, but only one correspondence went past three or four emails (I’m bad at following up with people and I’m terribly picky). The one that stuck, however, has been amazing.

It’s a guy with a Masters in physics and a career in the military, who’s an amateur astronomer and who was in prep for the astronaut corps until he suffered an injury (you can actually meet people like this in DC. It’s the one cool thing about living here). Oh, and in photos he looks like one of those old-skool 1960s pilot/astronaut guys with the short hair and polo shirts :o)

So we’d been chatting and texting, and tonight we talked on the phone for the first time. Which is a big deal for me because I hate the phone. We talked for an hour and a half (did I mention he has a great south Texas accent?). And we’re supposed to go on a date when I get back from New York after Thanksgiving. And I’m super nervous because I don’t want to blow it because I actually like him so far.

What is happening to me? This is so unlike Miss Bunny!

So, I’m sure some of you have noticed that my blog has been kind of quiet lately, and that even my infinite queue had been allowed to reach its end. It’s nothing to worry about. I’ve been traveling all over the Eastern seaboard and even out to the west coast to see a lot of shows lately, and sometimes I forget to load up my queue before I disappear into the night. No worries, however - I’ve got the rest of this week to myself, so you can expect to see the usual overload of weirdness back on schedule.

An update on life, for those of you who’re interested and with whom I chat regularly on here: though it’s certainly far from 100%, my health seems to be holding steady, and I feel pretty good, if very bruised and banged up from all the metal shows (front row or nothing!). Also, without giving too much away (alright, without giving ANYTHING away, because I fucking hate people who name drop and brag on who they know), there’s been a strange series of events that came together in a most unexpected way for me in the last couple days, and I met someone who changed my perspective on a lot of things and has kind of infected my heart (against my will and better judgment, I might add). Yes, my dear followers, your own Miss Bunny might just have fallen a little bit in…love. And it seems to be the kind of thing that could actually grow into something…Ugh.

Anyway, that’s how I’ve been. How are you?