Who Are You?

Who are you? I ask myself this sometimes. Not in a supercool Who song moment way. More like John Cusack in Better Off Dead when he's looking in the mirror sticking q-tips in every orifice in his head. "Who are you? Who? Are You? I. Am. ...a walrus." Eh...maybe not a walrus but maybe not far off.

I am planning my 20 year high school reunion. I have no business doing this because I wasn't class president or anything but I really want it to be a good party that I'd like to go to and nobody else is stepping up. So I'm taking charge. Pretty much just waiting for someone to stop me at this point. It's not looking like that's going to happen. Dear christ I hope this is a success.

I am going on a date tomorrow. I may or may not get stood up. Kind of thinking that I'm going to get stood up. It's a match.com thing...who the fuck knows how that is supposed to work out. The last emails we traded ended with me telling him not to use "mwahahaha" in person ('cuz he did in an email...and it was funny in context but I could see it being creepy on a first date). So yeah, my guard is decidedly up about that. Eh, whatever. Life is too short to not have lunch with a stranger every now and then.

And I kind of have a crush on a boy who lives thousands of miles away. Several crushes actually. On several boys. And they all live thousands of miles away. None of them are likely to come to fruition. I think this is me making sure a real life date in my own zip code doesn't work out...hanging on to a fantasy that won't come true. And they say men have a hard time with commitment.

Sooo, who am I? I grew up being this borderline genius, too sarcastic for her own good, offbeat, friendly, good girl. I had a moment, an almost ten year moment, when I kind of forgot that and tried to make the pendulum swing all the way to normal. I believe it swang back to highly weird for a while. Now (maybe? hopefully?) I am lilting between genres. Like spicy wings that come with bleu cheese and celery. Just the right amount of hot and cool.