Monday, January 17, 2011

It's Been Awhile

One would think that I'd really be into this blogging stuff. I love to write and I love to talk and I love to vent. Maybe I don't blog because I secretly don't like to type. You see, when I close my eyes, before I fall asleep at night, I type every word that comes into my head mentally. This can get annoying when I think in full sentences or paragraphs. You know what's worse? When I make a mental mistake, I use the backspace and type it over again. No joke. There is something seriously wrong with me.

There are a few nights that I do not type in my brain. Those nights I finger spell things to myself, or to the universe. I would use full ASL if I knew it, but alas I only know the alphabet and the number 1-10. This is almost as painful as typing in my head because I have to think of each letter as I think the word, where as in typing I can kind of think of one word as one entity. Long words, like "catastrophic", leave me catatonic when I forget which letter I was on and have to start over again.

Maybe there's something wrong with me. Maybe it's like some mild compulsion. I don't know, and I try not to self diagnose. Most of the time my "conversations" to myself are silly things. I'll tell myself I'm beautiful. I'll write myself love letters from an imaginary secret admirer. Not having romance in my waking life has done something extremely weird to my nights.

I have dreams about dates, boyfriends, proposals. I've even held hands with a life-long friend in a dream and I highly enjoyed it. When I woke up I was appalled, because Ben is like my brother and I could never think of him romantically, but in my dream we were practically engaged. How does my mind create scenarios like this? Or, more importantly, why does my mind create scenarios like this?

Last night I had a dream that I got an anonymous note from a "secret admirer." He'd drawn a stick figure likeness of me pouting with the words, "I'm aware of your situation" written below. What does that mean? You don't flatter a girl by drawing a less than flattering stick-figure of her. And you don't win brownie points with pity dates.

Well, I can't promise I'll write again anytime soon. So I guess I should tell you that ShaPi moved out and ApMil and GWil moved in, not like it matters.