This week it has been a year that I have been a Daywalker.
Lately I've been realizing just how long it was the last time I had a certified crush on somebody. The kind of crush that makes you bite your lip and blush and zone off into La-la Land while you're thinking of him. I think for a long time I started to believe it could never happen again. I think, too, that the drama of turning 30 had a lot to do with that feeling of hopeless emptiness, of stagnation, of loneliness.
That has changed. Not sure how or why or precisely when (well, ok, I kind of have an inkling on the when), but I'm starting to believe again. Believe in the power of crush.
I am debating: tonight should I be a loser and stay home to clean my apartment; or should I pretend I am somewhat cool and head down to the local for a couple drinks, and try to meet someone new?
I have to admit, after the sort-of-whirlwind way things have been going the last couple of months, being a loser feels really tempting. That, and the fact that I have so much do to here — including my Netflix Direct queue, which has finally been hooked up through my Wii — makes Loserville seem pretty tempting.
Plus, tomorrow will be a full day at the Fillmore Jazz Festival with Josh and Leonie and others. There will be live music and "street meat", as Josh lovingly refers to it — I think he means food, and not the other, less savory kinds of meat you find on the streets of San Francisco.