Knowing How To Live Over Here!

Cynical and Cyclical... so Cymiliar.

I have found that my misplaced optimism has once again left me crying in a pillow... just like childhood. That's not funny... or is it? What if I told you that when my Mom would break me down, she wore floppy shoes and my Dad slipped away on a banana peel? I know, what hacky parents, but not as much as my ex, who clearly is hacking my parents.

I had the worst week, for a decent heart, in as long as I can remember... truly nightmare-ish and I couldn't be happier to be home again. I was in Portland, where everything awful in my life has ever happened. I am back in San Francisco, wavering on view points, grasping for reason. When things get to be too overwhelming, all I can do is exercise, starve myself and/ or watch Sex and the City (I know, typical). I am knuckle deep in season 5 of the meal replacement series, when I catch myself crying at Charlotte's bounding optimism when faced with looking for love. I don't know if I am crying because I know she ends up with a fat, bald man or if it's because I realize that I had so much hope for the person who completely devastated me. "Love knows no bounds," but it should... it really should, because before too long you'll be watching Sex and the City just to see Richard cheat on Samantha again. So you can feel like someone other than you is an idiot for not seeing the signs. At least Richard took care of himself and owned a bunch of hotels. I was practically engaged to a bag of Cheetos before I realized it was getting orange stuff all over my tummy.

That's about all... anything I can create is good. Now I am going to watch one more episode (I hope it's the one Richard fucks up again) before going to sleep.

au revoir