M: Triumphant Return

I’m feeling a little like this song:

And then I get a little misty. And then Diddy starts in, and I’m back to normal.

What am I talking about? Where have I been?

I am talking about visiting the Single Ladies in NYC the weekend after next! I’ve been here in lovely Minneapolis living la vida loca! One book that I will never write but could if I were a writer is the story of the last year. The title would be The Sexless Year. Doesn’t that sound like something you’d want to read the shit out of? It would start with a highly lightly fictionalized moi having a quarterlife crisis/leaving NYC, doing Jesus Camp, then living at home with Mom while working at a restaurant and lusting after customers. And the lack of el amor therein. But then there would be this guy friend throughout, and after a year, an ill-advised one-time boning with him that nevertheless breaks the curse and does not ruin said friendship. Life, love, success, etc. immediately follows forever and ever until the sequel: Graduate School: The Sex-filled Two Years. Because that’s what’s next for this Single Lady.

Of course, IRL, after the non-curse breaking boning, true love remains elusive (though the friendship with that guy seems intact). Also, six weeks ago I got a crazy pants case of mono-hepatitis, leaving me totally miserable for five weeks OF MY LIFE. And I didn’t even get it from kissing someone! Cheated! I am going to grad school this fall, though. Crossing fingers for scholarly romance.

Unrelated: I want you all, especially the copious menfolk that read this neglected blog, to check out this post on craigslist (via The Hairpin). I think it is right. If I had a man to send it to, I would.