I've been doing a lot of reading, as chronicled in the book blog. I was wondering why nobody had left any comments and then discovered the blog was set up to disallow anonymous comments. I fixed that. Now you can confess your love for magical pants books in perfect secrecy.

This weekend I went to a Superbowl party where I knew the Useless Shagging Bastard would be in attendance. I don't know what it is about that guy, but I had to make sure my hair and boobs looked perfect. And then he looked kind of squiffy and I looked kind of hot, and it was all very satisfying. Does this make me a bad person?

I wrote a poem about the experience, though. I don't know how I can spend agonizing months in the most tempestuous possible relationship and get maybe one poem out of it, whereas the poetry comes vomiting out of me onto the page even if I just see USB for five minutes. It's probably the lack of closure as well as the lack of crippling emotional pain that does it.

Speaking of long lost loves, I saw the Boy of Inappropriate Age recently as well. He made a comment to the effect that it "wasn't that you were too old, it's that I was too young." Oh, BIA. The torrid fling we could have had!

The entry that I'm working on contains all the sidebar material that I've had to leave off of these entries. I've seen a lot of movies, and the list keeps getting longer! I finally saw the last Oscar movie, Million Dollar Baby. Not a fan, I have to say. Which means that a bunch of movies I feel lukewarm about are competing in the Oscars against other movies I feel lukewarm about. All I can say is, Kate Winslet needs to win something so that I can dredge up some giving a shit.

(Stream-of-consciousness diarying is kind of fun, as it turns out.)

Other than that... well, the Countdown to Thirty has begun. It won't be long now! Only fortysomething shopping days left! I like balloons!

I am supposed to do something spectacular on my birthday, like climb a mountain or get a tattoo or run away to Europe. Well, I will be running away to Europe four days later but I have no desire to climb a mountain and I think I might chicken out of the tattoo thing. I am currently brainstorming other ideas.

Since my plan was to have my act together by the time I turned thirty, this doesn't leave me a lot of time to get my act together. But I'm trying! I have a grownup job and a functional relationship; I write thank-you notes and I pay my bills on time. That's gotta count for something, right?

Oh man, I am listening to my iTunes right now on shuffle, and a song came on that reminded me of something. In a mere fortysomething days, I am going to be a thirty-year-old Clay Aiken fan. Oh my god. I am so not ready for this!