Hm. Huh. Where to go with this. I have thoughts and feelings so inappropriate, so impossible for most people to understand, they are probably better suited for my personal journal. So as not to be a cruel tease, I'll give you a hint of the direction of my thoughts -- Mom. The deepest subject any therapist can dig his teeth into is the formative, life-altering, personality-molding influence of a woman's relationship with her mother. And father, for that matter, but usually that's only important if the father was abusive or absent. My guilt is not for the usual reasons. I don't feel guilty that I'm not doing more to help. Not at all. I feel guilty because I don't feel bad about not helping. And this is such a new thought, I must do some writing on the subject to figure out what it is I'm really getting at.

Let's take a step back from deep, dark, and potentially unattractive thoughts and reflect on last night. Last night, I took my love to dinner downtown and to the comedy show, Triple Espresso. I seriously DID laugh out loud. Dinner was fantastic, we went to Trattoria La Strada on Fifth and the service and food was delightful (and reasonably priced). I had planned the evening a few weeks ago because I wanted to surprise and delight and celebrate him, and us.

It was nice to have a night out on the town with my man. We never get downtown because we really can't stand most of the people who frequent the neighborhood. Though we had a blast sitting in the window of the restaurant and watching everyone walk by, the young girls who were falling out of their clothes, the young men, already drunk and dopey, the older folks, looking for a little action, and the tourists, in all their good-ol'-American Midwestern garb, shushing their rowdy kids and doing their best to absorb all of the sights and sounds of "big city living."

Where was I? Ah, yes, the wonderful evening. We wined, we dined, we walked, and we laughed our asses off. And the whole time, I thought of how grateful I am to have someone I love, admire, and respect on my arm. And he did look dashing in that button-down blue shirt over a black tee, that blue that brings out the deep azure of his eyes.

Tonight we're having a cocktail with a few friends. Mellow, and we'll hit up a different neighborhood, I've already done downtown twice this week, and being down there contributes too much to my misanthropy. So, cocktails in Hillcrest, or University Heights, or Normal Heights, we'll figure it out.

Right now I think I'll pack up my laptop and take it to a coffee shop, where I can daydream and work, in that order. I have a lot of work to do and a lot of social obligations on the horizon. A wedding, a road trip, a bachelorette party (in that order, different people), and more.

In the meantime, I really need to shake this mood I'm carrying around like a stinky dead rat in my purse. This mood that has me so filled with distaste for people in general. I'll work on it. Socializing with people who don't suck will surely aid me in this regard. I'm looking forward to my book club meeting tomorrow, and to cocktails with friends tonight. By the end of the weekend, I should be right as rain (I love the rain).

-Barbarella

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