Pink Eye.  That's my latest present from life.  I'm currently rocking some glasses that I dug out from the nineties.  Nothing like badly shaped metal and a crusty eye to make a girl feel like a million.  I thought about compensating by wearing something really great and bold and noteworthy.  But then I stepped outside and decided I might as well embrace the outdated frump look today.

That is not going to happen again.

I don't care if that sounds shallow or vain or frivolous.  Life feels better when I am put together.  Especially when I'm messy on the inside.  Right now, it's the little things that make the big things bearable.  No judging.

I have slept almost all day, nightmaring about the terrible paper I have to write about terrible poetry that I do not care one bit about.  Terrible, terrible, terrible.  I need to just bite the bullet.  Sit down and get serious.  But that sounds like death tonight and besides, I just found this trashy new blog to read (it's three years long, thank goodness) and my dad and sister are watching Remember the Titans which trumps poetry any day.

Especially nature obsessing, child idealizing, nonsense written by unstable emotional men.  It is enough to make me a little resentful of all males.  And a little suspicious of what really goes on in their heads.  I think they have us all fooled but I'm on to them.

My friend just texted me about her speed dating experiment tonight.  That sounds like a plan that's pretty awful and I've been craving one of those.  Can you imagine?  It is PERFECT, I hate talking and I bet I could come up with some really great questions. My mother says I'm too nice, that I need to work on being meaner.  Margot tells me that I need to pull out both guns, No and Thank You.  But I can not help myself, I think people are fascinating and especially boys.  There's something about them, something really interesting. 

My speed dating friend wants me to run a half with her in March.  She thinks we both need something to do that will wear us out because we are both edging on reckless restlessness.  And girls tend to get reckless with boys when they're feeling life's emptiness.  So, we're going to date our running shoes instead?  I'm still working on being excited about that one.  My self won't take another thing that's explained away by it'll be good for you.  I've resorted to bribes. 

Maybe a new swim suit to go with my runners.  Or a really great dress. 

Bring on the miles.