Dear Kristen Buckley,

I read your book. I have to admit, it was nothing like I thought it would be.

I thought it would be light, entertaining in that “20-something Girl Who Needs Help with Her Dating Life/Finances/Crazy Family” way, like all those others I can’t seem to stop acquiring. I thought it would be good.

But it wasn’t.

It was fucking awesome!

You realize, you only sent it to me 48 hours ago and I’ve been finished reading it for 12. Couldn’t put it down. Missed my bus stop twice in one day.

I have some questions, though. If I may?

1. Does Parker have curly hair? I realize this is trite, but I’ve yet to meet a straight-haired gal who can get away with dirty, but amazing looking hair.

2. Do you play a musical instrument? Is there some sort of parallel to be drawn from Parker’s talent to your own? Which leads me to:

3. How much of Parker is you? ‘Cause she’s so fucking awesome in that What in God’s Name is Going On in Your Head kinda way. And depending on that answer,

4. Girl, can we be friends? ‘Cause really, you rock.

Much fondness and fan-like adoration,

H

Went to v. first Spinning class on Monday.

When speaking of Spinning, one must clarify that is not class in which one turns about in dizzying fashion, rather spins his or her legs altogether too rapidly on stationary bike while instructor hollers in motivating fashion. While brain is still functioning, speech is not, as all physical capacities are being used to pedal the goddamn bike.

“You can do it!”
No, I’m quite certain I can’t. But since there are far too many good-looking guys in here to call it quits, I’ll die trying.
“Increase the resistance!”
(pretend to turn knob)
“I saw that!”
Damn it!

Am now suffering from not having padded seat on stationary bike. Oh dear god.

Also had v. fist experience at local driving range. Now, generally, am first person to mock golfers and spending money to chase little white balls across acres of grass. Would much rather be wandering barefoot on same grass doing no sort of chasing. But now, really, really want to go back! Sure, made quite the pathetic attempt at a golf swing, but am convinced that could do much better if given the opportunity!

Must stop current cycle of binge eating. Am headed to beachfront mini-vacation in a week and am in no position to be showing off excess bulk. Ah, well. Endless battle. Endless uphill, super duper hard battle. Not unlike Spinning.

Was downing second vodka tonic when Galpal leaned in to whisper, “J is here.”

Was aware that someone had invited J to Saturday night’s birthday festivities, but was still wholly unprepared for the event. Was advised by gal and guy pal alike to “blind with cleavage.” Chose appropriate, low cut black number, and even resurrected Wonder Bra from depths of lingerie drawer. Am not certain if was successful at distracting J from noticing that yours truly had packed on significant amount of weight in last 4 months, but did succeed in luring guy pals into tossing items such as napkin pieces into cleavage chasm. Sigh.

Was ever-so-glad that nearly every sentence out of J’s mouth started with “My girlfriend…” Great. Just great. Bite me, drummer boy.

Am also suffering from symptoms of a new crush. Blast. Am not too worried, as symptoms usually pass after have had chance to dismantle and dissect New Crush to find as many possible reasons why would be unworthy candidate. So far, though, NC’s flaws are more endearing than disqualifying. A shame, really, as am fairly certain the interest would not be returned.

A shame, indeed.

Good news!!

Have been accepted for publication! Yipeee!

Is nothing enormous… just a short story to be published in Summer of 2005 (am hoping to live that long) but am so v. excited.

*cough cough* Okay, too much excitement. Must lie down.

*cough cough*

Am *sniff* not getting sick, damn it!

Okay, am getting sick. But am fighting it. Have accused officemate of passing on cold germs, but was told that was not the case. Instead, officemate insists that yours truly acquired cold bug from biting a Near Stranger during Sunday evening’s couch capades/wrestling match. Have passed along the accusation, calling Near Stranger a disease carrying monkey, but recieved no reply to my email. Go figure.

As am feeling poverty stricken, will not be heading down to Big City for weekend as had anticipated. Instead, will most likely be sacked out on couch, stocking up an Vitamins C, E and THC in effort to chase away this cold.

Simply can’t wait for IRB lunch… can’t wait to ever so delicately hack up a lung onto the table. Am convinced that god hates me.

Spent yesterday evening engaged in a bit of manual labor with friends over pizza and wine. Ended evening by spilling beans about totally shameful one-night-stand involving mutual friend. Mistake? Nah.

Funny thing is, feel much better. It’s a strange phenomenon, really, that feel somewhat absolved of drunken error by having handful of friends to share the shame with. Don’t exactly want it to be common knowledge, but truthfully, seems so much less of a v. dirty secret now.

Have set lunch date with IRB tomorrow. And honestly, do not want to be having lunch. No, indeed. Instead, want to be right back in stinky cab, drunkenly inching closer and closer, wondering if it’s just a bad idea even though we really want to, and…

Oh god. Must get mind back on work. But god, did he smell good.

Feel like wretched, unfeeling monster.

After spending morning sunbathing in the backyard, was shower-bound when stumbled upon fuzzy-headed, not yet ready for flight baby bird. Ordinarily, would scoop up stranded orphan, plop him in a cardboard box and play mother bird for next several weeks. But now that am kitten mother, would only be placing youngster in more peril. So, left the fledgling and now am tortured by thoughts of neighbornood cats and the idea that will soon stumble upon deplumed baby bird carcass. Such guilt!

Have spent the last few days trading banter with new e-flirt partner. Is something of a self-proclaimed bad boy, sharp tongued and something of a challenge. *sigh* Sometimes, work is fun.

Am so v. v. glad that on day that am wearing wrinkled but ever-so-comfy clothes and rushing to work sans makeup and looking completely disgusting, that run into IRB outside, not fifty feet from safety. Oh dear god!

Why not yesterday? Why not yesterday when was dressed head-to-toe in v. attractive earth colors and really great accessories (the shoes were great, must say). Why not then?

FUCK!

At this exact moment, am certain IRB is knitting brows in confusion pondering the age old phenomenon of beer goggles.

Had date last night with M. Met at local, sit-on-carpet-and-share-communal-table Middle Eastern restaurant. Shared such table with v. tiny brunette and v. tiny brunette’s not-so-attractive blond male companion. At one point, nudged M.

H: You know who that is right? Who we’re sharing a table with?
M: No. Who?
H: Natalie Portman.
M: What? We’re eating next to Queen Amidala?!
H: Shh! Yes. Don’t you feel lucky?
M: (taking long look at Ms. Portman — no make up, hair in ponytail, low rise jeans showing…) I can see Natalie Portman’s panties!
H: (laughing) Yes, everyone here can.
M: Wow.

Spent yesterday evening attempting to recover from yesterday’s head-spinning, carpet-treading, what-the-hell-to-do first day in new role at monkey job. Only adding to frantic helpless feeling was knowledge that was about to be losing best and most amusing email partner. Was first day of new job for yours truly, and last day at firm for Indie Rock Boy.

Said good-byes, went home and after hot bath, popped in IRB-gifted CD and flopped onto v. comfy bed. Was pleasantly surprised to find that CD was compilation of mostly lyric-free tunes of the post-rock variety. (No, will not be renaming him Post Rock Boy.)

And for the next seventy something minutes, found self laying on bed, nearly without moving, feeling quite languid and decadent and, must say, a bit… in the mood. Intentional move on part of IRB? Am not certain. But am fairly certain that if had only embraced the Inner Whore and invited IRB in on Friday night, would not have spent rest of the night with imagination racing in such a fashion.

Can Indie Rock Boy come out and play? Sigh.

Got to work this morning and smiled to find the following email.

To: H
From: IRB
RE: So long…

Later, darlin’. Thanks for keeping me distracted on email & otherwise here at Monkey Firm.
Lunch sometime next week?

Oh, indeed. There will be lunch.

Have just been handed CD by IRB… made especially for yours truly.

If was sixteen, that would signal engagement.

Have found that any which way the following story is told, The Lieutenant comes off as more charming than cocky… and am inclined to think that it’s due to own story telling majesty, as The Lieutenant was anything but charming.

Broad shouldered in a well-fitted gray t-shirt? Yes.
In possession of biceps bigger than this gal’s thighs (and we hardly thought THAT possible)? Mmm hmm.
Cocky? Sure
Arrogant? Absolutely. And ordinarily, would scoop such a beast up in a heartbeat and earn nasty chin burn in the backseat of an outbound cab. But The Lieutenant was irksome from first minute he bullied his way into a space at table with yours truly and galpals. As was designated driver, and thus v. sober, did nothing to disguise dislike for Air Force fellow. Finally, after nearly an hour of I’m-So-Great stories, was asked

L: Why do you hate me?
H: I don’t hate you. I just don’t like you.
L: Why not?
H: You’re arrogant.
L: Well, give me five reasons you don’t like me and I’ll go away.
H: Promise?

With help of galpals completed list of wrongs.
1. Arrogant (yes, Lieutenant, it counts)
2. Is BoobTalker (hello? Yes, am up here. Not in my bra.)
3. Is lazy (with bar being five steps away, must have girl fetch his drink??)
4. Must be in possession of v. small penis.
5. Is full of shit. (no explanation needed.)

Left as promised, but returned in short order.

H: You promised. Why are you still here?
L: It intrigues me how much you hate me. Plus, you’re very attractive.
H: Yeah, well, go be intrigued somewhere else.
L: Oh, come on! I’m not that bad! You’d like me if you got to know me!
H: No YOU come on! Do you want to know why I think you’re arrogant? Because you’ve been sitting at my table for over an hour, selling bullshit stories, attempting to impress me, and in that hour you haven’t so much as asked my name!
L: Silence.

Bizarre display of Never-Say-Die attitude lasted entire evening. Felt v. sorry for Lieutenant’s friends who made noble attempts at rescuing yours truly.

W: I’m really sorry. I tried to get him to leave.
H: What’s his deal?!
W: I guess he really likes you. You don’t seem to be too in love though…
H: My heart is all a flutter. He’s a masochist. The meaner I am, the harder he tries.

Turned into quite the joke, and by evening’s end, poor fool was monikered as The Boyfriend. Lieutenant Boyfriend. Am hoping Lieutenant Boyfriend did not feel too jilted when escaped with pals and headed for home.

Aim High, Air Force indeed.

Having just woken from nice warm cuddle with kitten, called West Coast sister for lazy chat.

WCS: What’s up?
H: Ah, nothing. Just having a cuddle with the kitten.
WCS: A cuddle? I am EX-cessively fond of the cuddle!
H: (realizing that are now quoting Emma) A cuddle is a cuddle, but a cuddle on a dreary Sunday afternoon…

At which point, RK gets creeped out by really terrible British accent and leaps from bed, ending warm fuzzy moment. With innocent ears out of range, shared Indie Rock Saga with WCS.

H: He said something about it not being a good idea for him to come in. Which, of course, was my cue to insist on it. Imagine his surprise when I said I wasn’t inviting him in!
WCS: (laughing) Awesome! What did he do?
H: I don’t know… I handed him a $20 for the cab and got out. He called my cell a few minutes later, but I didn’t answer.

Most intriguing thing about new IRB developments is that… IRB has quit working at Monkey Firm. Indeed. As of Wednesday, will be working for competing firm less than a block away. Overheard IRB telling coworkers (those encouraging the coupling of yours truly and IRB) that since will no longer be working together, is much more of a possibility. Would be ecstatic at idea of having new yummy kissing partner except that IRB is not over HIS ex and yours truly, well, still dismantling each new contender for J’s spot in this gal’s psyche, social calendar and bed.

Indeed. Time will tell.

Made out with Indie Rock Boy in cab last night on way home from night out with coworkers.

Yum.

That is all.

Am not sure how hours flew by, but at noon, had to stop and take a breath.

Nice Office Lady: H, stop right there.
H: What?
NOL: You’re wearing out the carpet in here. Go sit down.
H: Ha! I wish!
NOL: There’s no grass growing under your feet, is there?!
H: No time for grass!! No time!!

Made mad dash back to office where phone was rinigng and several “Please fulfill my every need” emails were waiting. So far, new job title hasn’t brought new money… just new craziness.

SHOW
Me
the
Money.

Please?

Spent yesterday evening in company of wonderful friends at celebratory steak dinner, complete with lovely strawberry margaritas. Turned in relatively early, though, but not until after having snuggle time with sporadically un-Reluctant Kitten. Seems as though batter-recharging moments are not quite making up for battery draining work sessions.

Ah well. The price one pays for being important Circus Clown.

Was basking in glow of having been told that was finally receiving hard-earned promotion from Circus Monkey to Circus Clown, when cell phone rang.

It was J.

Am not certain that can adequately find words for massive surge of varying emotions that came and went during nearly one-hour phone call. But do know that felt quite scattered afterward.

J: I’ve wanted to call for a long time, but didn’t know if it would have been okay.
H: It wouldn’t have been.
J: I just haven’t talked to you in so long. You were one of my best friends and you just went away.
H: I know… it’s been months. Three, I guess.
J: I want to say this, but I have to think about it first so I don’t sound like a moron.
H: I’m used to your brand of Moron, so just say it.
J: Ha! Thanks, I think…
H: You’re welcome.
J: Anyway, I just want you to know that, even though I know it had to feel that way, I wasn’t with you until I found something… better. That sounds so awful, but I mean, I don’t want you to think you weren’t good enough.
H: Well, you’re right. That’s how it looked. But we both knew what we were getting ourselves into. And that it wasn’t going to turn out well. But what you know and how you feel aren’t always the same.
J: I know. All those long drives in quiet, trying to sort things out in my head…
H: Yeah, well…
J: Listen, if you ever want to, you know I’m always around and my phone’s always with me.

The chit-chat and banter made it seem as though no time had passed, but the feeling that our lives have gone on quite normally without one another was unsettling.

J: Yeah, you are totally right. It will never be the same, and I don’t know what will come of it from now on, but I think we should stay in touch. That is if you want to…

Oh, the question that have asked myself over and over. On one hand, there is so much to miss about what J and yours truly had together. But am inclined to think that should be looking to form that with someone else, rather than rekindle it with J.

Don’t know. Just don’t know.

Was supposed to work late again, but instead, spent yesterday lounging in sun on back porch, eating ice cream cones and sleeping day away in v. comfy bed. Still don’t feel rested, somehow. Though, that may be attributed to fact that went to 9:45 showing of Matrix Reloaded with a few friends and Boy #2.

RK has yet to forgive yours truly for last week’s veterinary encounter in which she was deprived of her womanhood. Is back to hiding under furniture and making mad dash from windowsills when hears approaching footsteps. Am back to being kitten mother failure.

Have not made it to the gym in a week and am feeling lethargic and just plain icky. Will force self to go back tomorrow.

Friday’s meeting with Man in Charge went badly. V. badly indeed. Though was quite highly reccommended for new position by soon-to-be-leaving boss, Man in Charge took time out of his day to make the following comments to that end:

– You’re just the kid in the corner. If you wanted to make a real impression, you’d have coffee and donuts at the 8 AM Monday meetings.

- The first thing you need to learn how to do is write.

- Don’t come into the president’s office without having all the answers. I am only being this harsh to help you grow. Growth takes discomfort.

- You didn’t start off your memo to me with “dear.” If you want to make a good impression, you never forget very important things like that.

Um, alright.

Dear Sir.

H

Have already begun updating resume which will be sending out, along with stellar letter of reccommendation by soon-to-be-leaving boss. Man in Charge is going to be quite full after eating those words.

Spent last evening with gal pals, giving v. basics of yoga practice. Must say, was v. fun! At the same time, was not quite as productive as needed for true practice, as more giggling than concentrating went on. Minor sacrifice!

While is true that am no yogi, have learned quite a bit from own practice and have begun to take it much more seriously. And love it. Now, if only could stop binge eating, am certain results would show more. Ah, well. Them’s the breaks.

Have appointment with same gal pals for waxing extravaganza this evening. Am tempted to go home and smoke some vitamin THC to prepare, as have vivid memory of last encounter with such pain, but time will not allow.

Drat.

Big Boss at monkey job is flying in this afternoon to meet with yours truly and couple others to discuss new direction that monkey job will take. Do hope that means am getting new Fez to wear. Old monkey costume is getting quite out-dated.

Speaking of dated, finally had face to face with D last night. Took a long a friend as security guard/second opinion. Friend thinks D is v. cute and nice and am inclined to agree. A bit on the skinny side, but am trying to refrain from dismantling poor man and give him a fighting chance. Have date on Thursday, as well, with bio-medical researcher fellow. Then have also arranged meeting with writer fellow while out with friends Saturday night. Just the hello-nice-to-see-you type meeting to assess the possibilities. Spending all day e-flirting with all three makes for one busy Fish.

Great Divorce became final over last couple days and UMF and NACF will finally be going their separate ways. Am not certain how to feel about the situation, but do know am not the most affected by it. Younger siblings seem to be getting caught in crossfire. Have issued bullet-proof vests. Fighting parental figures need to lay off.

H: People wondered if you were Mr. Poopy Pants.
B: I am NOT poopy!
H: I know that! You’ve just been laying low and the masses are starting to wonder where you’ve gone. They need an update.
B: Tell them I’m still trying to get into your pants.
H: Ha! No good. I’m wearing a skirt today. Not pants.

Is true that B has been laying quite low these days as is one v. busy B. B and Thin Blonde Girlfriend are making the leap to live-in lovin’ soon. A hearty congratulations is due and a welcome to the world of the grown ups. Am not part of said world, so imagine someone else had better do the welcoming.

As is Meeting Monday, had to dress like am part of grown up world, and thus, clad in suit jacket and slightly irresponsibly short skirt, feel something like a flight attendant. Coffee? Juice? Sir, could you please fasten your seat belt for take off?

The real Mr. Poopy Pants has requested lunch meeting sometime this week. Am not certain that am up to such a task, but will have a pre-lunch cocktail as insurance.

Reluctant Kitten has demolished v. nice houseplant belonging to roommate.

Came home from work the other day to see toppled greenery and felt quite bad about it. Spent yesterday morning consulting coworkers with expertise in field of plant life so as to identify the deceased (brought in sample leaves and part of stem) so that might replace it. As of yet, remains unidentified, but hope to be plant shopping by week’s end.

Lord knows that don’t need yet another reason to aggravate roommate.

Am taking RK to v. expensive kitty doctor this afternoon for check-up, vaccinations and pre-farewell-to-her-womanhood consultation. Indeed. RK is getting fixed. Though, can’t really see how “fixed” is the proper word for this sort of thing, as cannot see that she is broken in anyway. But will certainly be nice to bring end to mewling for 5 days every month. Hmm… wonder if can get same sort of consultation for self…

Have a close acquaintance who has horrible misfortune of never being happy.

Or at least, would seem is not happy unless he has someone to be upset with. He pouts, fusses and makes enormous displays of being displeased with those he is closest to. If he’s upset with his significant other, yours truly is in v. good graces. Yet, if things are running smoothly in that department, am in the shithouse. And for things that HE does wrong.

He says something ridiculously rude, and as am prone to shrug such things off, do so, and thus become recipient of the world’s coldest shoulder. He breaks something, borrows something and doesn’t return it, and gets mystically angry at this gal. Eh?? Dear lord, is it possible that he has eternal PMS?

Thus, spend most of my time around said Mr. Poopy Pants, watching my every move. Try to say what should be least misconstrued, make sure nothing is in his way, and still, suffer the wrath of his unpredictable, and if am being honest, totally FUCKING ANNOYING bad moods.

Apart from that, the two of us get along just fine.

It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that a single girl in possession of a pert tushy (and wearing rather tight yoga pants) must be in want of a discount.

Man at Video Store: Looks like you have some late fees.
H: Uh… well, yeah. I turned one in empty last time. *nervous laugh* please don’t think I’m a complete retard.
MAVS: *laughing* That would be The Score, right?
H: Yeah. Sorry about that.
MAVS: No problem. But what about The Secretary? That was late, too.
H: What? I thought that was due the day after the other? *sigh* handing over a ten dollar bill
MAVS: Nah, don’t worry about it. Your total is $3.97.
H: For three DVDs?
MAVS: Discount for taking my recommendation. *winks*
H: *laughing* Thanks.
MAVS: See you later.

Will continue to let Man at Video Store make rental recommendations if it means not paying for them. Have no problem accepting such gifts. Afterall, was not prancing into store thrusting cleavage at poor fellow. In fact, was post-gym sweaty, make-up less and probably less than appealing-smelling. Is yoga pants, am certain. Just too booty-licious.

Seven pounds to go. Am certain that weekend binge-eating did not help. But was praying to gods of higher metabolism that wouldn’t be too huge of a setback. But, dear GOD, how hard is it to lose 10 pounds?!

Aside from standard I-Want-a-Hysterectomy moping, passed v. nice weekend.

Though not in much of a party spirit, attended small but amusing party at friend’s apartment on Friday night. Did not drink, so as not to encourage any added nausea, and spent majority of party lounging on v. soft leather couches watching friends hop about to Dance Dance Revolution. So fun!

Had delightful Saturday at ballpark taking in hot dogs, ice-cream and oh-so-much sun. Am like peppermint candy — white, red, white, red. Could sun not have been directly overhead?! Good lord.

Is v. sunny out, and am back at work wishing there were some sort of law making work on v. sunny days illegal. Sunny days are for picnics, canoes and laying ’round doing nothing more taxing than lifting v. good book and glass of lemonade. Someone must tell higher-ups.

Still have not had tête-à-tête with D. Am shooting for next Monday. In meantime, must get legs waxed (on schedule for this afternoon), PMS skin back to normal (will pray for intervention) and head back to gym to make binge-eating reparations. Must put best foot forward, after all. Speaking of feet… must make appointment for pedicure.

Yesterday, suffered v. severely from the blahs.

Didn’t help that was v. gray day and that heavy air smelled like wet cats. Could not quite shake icky, melancholy feeling, and then realized, was merely friendly reminder that am indeed, not pregnant.

Starve a cold, feed PMS. Have been eating nonstop.