seeing only a reflection of the wonder that you could not make

For the first time in a while, I woke up not feeling totally awful and stressed and down on myself. Maybe from all the walking yesterday, plus discovering that Jay Street turns into Smith Street, after waiting for 45 minutes for the F, then having a fabulous interview that will not only make a great column but felt like it was a personal message just for me. NO REGRETS. So I'm just gonna do what I always do and pretty much forget that date two weeks ago ever happened. I've already found cool people to play board games with and am just trying to immerse myself in all this writing and research and stuff I have to read and not get overwhelmed. One day at a time is always so impossible for me, right behind one thought at a time, one task at a time. I get so overwhelmed and want to do everything and when I can't I think it's all me but I find that when I'm working on things I care about, I can do it. Or, at least, I can try. No promises, just do my best, which, I've realized, only I really know or can judge. I guess I'm the only one who can or should judge anything about how I'm doing. It's so so easy to believe both the naysayers and the bullshit artists, and I'm so grateful to have people in my life who will be straight with me about the possibilities. I've had agents say "sex sells," like it were that easy, then the whole "you could write this book in your sleep," but the good thing is, those statements force me to figure out what it is I really want to do and where I want to see my life headed. So instead of being jealous of all the hot moms in the umpteen articles about them today, I just have to focus on me and be a little selfish for a while in order to get where I want to go. I have no real business trying to date and I should know that. Now's not the time and I seem doomed to mess it up so badly, so I'm just going to focus on my work and my friends and family and what I can control.

Although, if I were every going to do online dating, I would totally be all about Apple Dates. It seems to be run by or associated with New York Press, which is fine, but I think it'd be a little weird for me, as a Village Voice sex columnist to go on there trying to find true love, or at least, dork-loving dates, and then write about it, but it really is a fabulous idea - you register and then put in specific events, whether they're art openings or movies or comedy shows, that you want to go to, and if someone else also wants to go, they invite you. I would love to have a date to go see Just My Luck. I mean, if someone is willing to sit through a Lindsay Lohan movie with me, that says a lot, right? But maybe I can con Mia into going, or just go myself. I miss that; I rarely let myself go to the movies anymore and I should. That's the thing I do love about being single, having my own schedule and being able to plan my day however I want. So I'm going to focus on the happy things and not what or who I don't have, because I realized that as hurt as I was, as much as I'd like to say I'll change, I can't, ultimately. I can only be me, and I'm not perfect or even close, but I try really hard to be a good person, but I can't be everything to everyone and it's so futile to try, because of course you will upset or hurt or fail the people in your life. Quite often perhaps. But balancing taking care of myself and fulfilling my own weird need to feel useful is something I have to figure out. I'll still be the girl bringing things to parties and clamoring to do the dishes and all that, just not as often. I'm going to woo my writing so hard it falls at my feet and we fuck all the time, PDA, baby, and no one else will even catch my eye. And we'll make so many writing babies I'll have trouble keeping track of them. Or not. Who knows? I get myself in terrible trouble when I make promises I can't keep, so really, it's all one day at a time. Maybe I'll decide I just can't hack it and go find some new career or skill but I have a feeling that won't happen.

It's weird how scary it is to have people looking at you and paying attention. It's infinitely, infinitely easier to be the one asking the questions. To be the starstruck fan, to idolize others, to read their books, rather than write your own. It's unnerving to know that smart, important, powerful people know who I am; it feels like pressure and it's like dating in that you wonder how you can possibly live up to their expectations. And yet, as down on myself as I get for not being able to complete my to do lists, I'm excited. There's too much in the air for it not to work out, and it's energized me in ways I never could have imagined. It's made me think bigger, think broader, think, well, like a writer. A real writer, not the haphazard hobbyist I've been my whole life. It's made me believe in the possibilities and see all the good and the bad as things I can work through on my little computer screen. But thankfully, all the drama and crying and feeling completely worthless has abated pretty much. It's sad, it really is, because I do listen and I see things in people, and that's often my downfall because I'm too open, too trusting, but at the end of the day, I like that about myself. It's funny how there are things that the world tells you you shouldn't be. You talk to people like they're the only ones in the room. You were fun. All of that.

My laptop suddenly decided to play music so "Laurel Blues" by Ida came on when I logged into MySpace and not only made me realize how beautiful it is (and where I got the subject line), but that focusing on all those things that aren't to be won't get me anywhere. I know that, logically, but it's not easy. I really wanted to suggest some sort of "do over," still do kindof, because I know in my heart that things aren't supposed to be like that. You don't have a rapport with someone and get to know them and then drop off the face of the earth, though clearly, some people do. But I realized that to do that would be to say, in a nutshell, "I'm so sorry I slept with you. I'm racked with guilt and feel miserable and awful about it. Let's try again and I promise never, ever to let that horrible, awful, disgusting, evil thing happen again." I can't promise that so what's the point? Maybe it means that there are new people to meet, and I have to say, sugar Sweet sunshine, still a great date spot. Someday I'm sure I can go there again on a date but for now I'm just going to try to revert to pre-2006, when even though I hadn't had sex in eight months or whatever, I was doing okay. It's tricky to be not looking but looking, to feel like a loser because you're not really living up to your job title, but that's okay. My job doesn't involve my body, but my brain, and I have to remember that a little bit more as well.