'Sup. I’m just going to skip the part in which I apologize for not updating this blog in, what, over six months? Let’s just say you guys are smart enough to figure out who’s been winning my never-ending battle against procrastination and perfectionism lately (in my defense, I will say I’ve been working like a mule) (the reporting and typing type of mule, that is).
Lots to talk about, but the biggest most obvious thing to get out of the way is that I’ve been living in
That’s right,
Sure, it’s not the flip-flop-wearing, lawn-chair-chilling laidback paradise that Austin is, but Dallas is the perfect destination for someone who had a hard time surviving a grueling year-long sabbatical of self-contemplation (which sometimes felt like that scene in Zoot Suit with the guy going nuts in the isolation chamber and Edward James Olmos not shutting the hell up) (rent it, though).
So now I’m living alone for the first time, and I’ll tell ya, I’m scary good pals with loneliness. Once I corrected or learned to live with the several shortcomings of the hole I call my "efficiency" apartment (a friend told me the building reminded her of the Bates Mansion in Psycho), I’ve spent many long and wonderful weekends without taking a shower, reading comic books and old newspapers or watching cartoons in my computer (that’s right, I have no TV: the most significant step toward making my life more poetic. Until I installed the internet, of course).
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Same reason why I’ve been making an effort (make no mistake: it is an effort) to be a bit more social. So I’ve been actively trying to keep good relationships with my fistful of new friends in hopes that eventually one of them will introduce me to a cute eligible gal that might understand (maybe even share!) my hermitic impulses.
I was going to tell you about my apartment and the missing window pane, the broken fridge, the light that wouldn’t go off, the shower pipe that wouldn’t drain, the toilet without a lid and the closets without tubes to hang clothes on, but I’m feeling lazy. Fortunately, in my need to explain my laziness, I already told you.
Unfortunately, my laziness does prevent me from telling you other things about the city, but better not to force me to do anything and just tell you later (think about it this way: I allow myself to have realistic, repeatable goals. Just as I don’t do more than 40 pushups even though I could probably force 50, I’m not going to write more than what I already did as not to annoy myself or start fearing the next kilometric blog I’ll have to write).
Just remind me to tell you about East Dallas and my reflections on
