Saturday Morn

Saturday morning should be the happiest hours of the entire week. But i woke up with much depression. I wonder if it's because i didn't drink last night.

Could've wined and dined on the Embarcadero last night. Totally ditched that. Today Denisse wants to go out to the Chinese New Year parade at Union Square, possibly followed by salsa dancing. (Yeah, that's California for ya.) But i'm not sure i want to stand for 2 hours in the cold observing a culture i'm not that interested in. (I'm allowed to say that. I'm Chinese American.)

Haven't felt much like blogging lately. Which is not a good sign. All i have passion for these days is writing. If i don't even have that going, i shudder to think...

I think that lack of motivation stems from the belief that no one cares what happens in my life.

I hate to admit that it is a blow that JD has stopped reading my blog. Which is ridiculous, because i've written through months of no communication before. But he always read my blog. Even if he'd skip weeks at a time. Now i'm left to conclude he really is completely out of my life. And sadness washes over me.

I've been thinking, either he's gone back to therapy which requires total abstinence from alcohol, or he's dead.

A part of me wishes it's the latter. I don't mean that, of course. But you know how girls ponder why a guy doesn't call after a first date, and say things like, "I hope it's because he's been hit by a bus and is comatose at the moment." Similar sentiment. Let it never be about us.

This week, during an afternoon chitchat, a coworker started with prying, personal questions like, "Do you live alone?", and "Not even a boyfriend?" This was only like the third conversation we'd had since we met 4 weeks ago! And then he felt sorry for me. Don't worry, he's just insensitive, not interested. He's happily married.

But enough with the pity already! You fuck.

There wasn't enough time or energy to explain why, given my track record in the past 4 years or so, i am grateful to be alone.

See, JD would appreciate the humor in this incident.

A few nights ago, to my delight, Matt replied to 3 emails in a row, sounding really giddy. I'm sure he was under the influence.

I wrote, "Since you don't do IM, this slightly delayed emailing will do for now."

He wrote right back, earnestly inquiring on the IM alternative.

Exhilarated since no one had been available for IM in a great while, i replied with the info. And never heard back.

Two days later, he called me at work out of the blue to tell me how his computer crashed right after he popped the IM question that fateful night, and he couldn't even reboot in Safe Mode. Had to reinstall the OS and everything, and lost all data.

Course, we couldn't continue the conversation cos i had another call. For the next two days we just kept playing phone tag. One of us always had a customer.

It's a sign. The gods of IM do not want us to get with it.

Yesterday i had my taxes done at H & R Block. The accountant who worked with me was obviously an alcoholic. Was divorced, had broken capillaries on his cheeks, and reminisced about the time he lived in Tokyo when he perfected his Japanese by hanging out at a bar. The locals loved him.

I've said this before and i'll say it again. Drunken fools are all around us.

Incidentally, in the past two weeks or so, i've noticed that a couple of IP addresses have been frequenting my blog. One is in Menlo Park, the other in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. (Milwaukee, of all places!)

I'm sure these are not real persons, but machines monitoring traffic on my site.

And I hereby proclaim: With Dionysus as my witness, continue writing I shalt. (I picked Dionysus over the gods of IM, since the gods of IM are not in my good graces right now. LOL!)