feeling

While unpacking my weekend bag, I found a single blue argyle sock of his. and I actually put it up to my face in some misguided attempt to feel him again.

One weekend; four days of time together and I'm spun .

Gnawing

im one of those people who reads AM New York- the free daily handed out at subway stations by wind-chapped people.
I skimmed the fashion week coverage and first saw Eva Longoria who was at the Matthew Williamson show I worked at...and then I of course saw a short review of Rodarte, and it plunged me into a deeper black hole of depression.

Rodarte is a Vogue-darling- annointed by Wintour herself as fashion prodigies- which in itself wouldn’t depress me.
But Rodarte is designed by a duo of heavy-set sisters who still live with their parents in Pasadena. And they were girls I used to happy hour with at tacky Castro bars in SF.
Fashion Week is a seasonal abusive reminder to me that I have met people along the way who love what they do. Editors, designers, etc- some of whom I’ve dated or at least drank with on a regular basis who are successful and seem outwardly happy…who at one point were at the same level as I was…and somehow I’m now here.

And this is my life.
What happened?

the apt search in nyc

i honestly hate the apt search in nyc more than anything, i am seriously considering moving to ohio and letting myself get fat and watch reality TV and develop a farmers tan.

long day of work

stuck at work till 8pm, i run over to the gym and pump out a solid 45 minute chest and arm workout and rush over to doggy day care to pick up the rhodesian before they close at 9p. 

the fat day care employee glares at me as i stroll in at 8:59p with my cell against my ear and my eye to my blackberry. i could really care less if this fat fuck has to wait an extra ten minutes for me. my day is completely not my own- i am the bitch of my company and its founding partners and i find the smugness of the doggie day care employees infuriating.

i make a healthy dinner of sausage, spinach, broccoli, and fresh mozzarella and watch old episodes of Sex and the City with my roomie/best friend. I realize how mean the cougars on SATC are to one another- and it makes me feel a little better for being such a cunty friend to my best friends- I guess thats what best friends do to one another- they tell you the things you don't want to hear. 

I take a klonopin to bring me down to earth from the adderoll and fully recognize that yes I am participating in a system of uppers and downers but its finally Friday tomorrow and I could care less.

I'm finally drowsy and feel the end of the day coming upon me. Tomorrow I have an annoying project to tackle but look forward to a good work-out and drinking with the friends tomorrow night.

a newfriend has inspired me to start blogging again,. so here it goes:
i'm exhausted from a late dinner (read: drinking) and i'm at my desk pondering how I ever got to this moment.

Will I always feel so inadequate? I'm not buff, rich, or successful enough to warrant my existence. Sounds harsh and self-pitying- but fuck you this is my blog and I can whine all I want.
It doesn't help that I have a friend who's the equivalent of Captain America and Regina George. I can't help but to compare myself against him and all the attention that gay men throw their way.

The love life is in shambles. My ex has hired a surrogate to carry his seed and she's fully three months pregnant....

I'm still in love with him. Probably always will be. I have had countless dreams in which we kiss passionately-which is odd given that we stopped doing that long ago.

I've been dating a young restauranteur who I wildly volley from adoring to abhorring. I'll call him some nights longing for his presence--other nights I'll recoil from his touch and find faults with the most random qualities- like the fact that he eats like shit. Onion Rings with mayonaise. Milk with whip cream.

It makes my skin crawl and I deny him sex.

My job is a comedy of errors. I'm the asisstant to perhaps the best publicist in the nation- I was promoted several months ago, but that transition is dragging on as my Devil Wears Charvet boss is having a hard time letting go, but I still don't know what kind of career I want.

30 is on the horizon- a little over a year and change away- and I have so much to do before I'm forced to do that survey of accomplishments.

So for now I'm eating my veggies, trying to stick to my gut and stay true to my values.

I need to take a pill now. Signing off- astro.

The problem with blogs

most of my life now deals with confidential information- well the juicy stuff does- that writing a blog isn't really possible. not that anyone ever read this save for my very few close friends.

Fuck YouTube

I've been trying to post a fucking youtube video and its not working. I hate not being able to do something a 6 yr old with down syndrome can do in their sleep.

Things to look forward to:
1. Vacation on the 22nd.
2. Fire Island this weekend?