...why yes dear I did consider "visitations to places of illicit carnal desire" on my way home last night and I did pull my shiny black car into said parking lots and felt a weird thrill being leered at, lusted after and wanted - until I frigging saw how ugly and freaky the muther-fuckers were cruising me. And then oh you should have seen said pathetic little me tearing through the side streets around Central Ave trying to lose one said creepy muther-fucker who followed me and kept beckoning me to roll down my window.

Ugh - let's just have a welcoming party to welcome me back to 'Single-dom", smash me over the head with a bottle of Colt 45, push me over, push the bottle of poppers in my face - deep SNiiiiiiifFFF - drive/pound/drill/ram/plow/hammer that fucking tool up my tight ass (it's been many months - it's gonna burn - but let's get over with !) and then just shoot your hot, sticky loads upon my strong, unbroken back. Done - good. Now what the fuck am I supposed to do??

Happy Hour at 6pm ... pray for their souls, their gonna need it.

...and yes Donald - I DID scream your name...my keeper of the law and the LAW-LESS.

...the fact that people can be kind doesn't astound me, but when you truly feel it's motivated freely from concern, and not gain, I will admit some shock. Once that shock subsides I feel a very gentle, warm feeling, like when my Mom would muss my hair while the family watched 'Cheers' ...an action that said "Hey you - just checking - your here, your OK - good, good."

Thanks to those who have 'mussed my hair over the past 24 hours', it's means a lot to me.

and because I have neglected to say it before, thanks Chris for being the true shoulder to cry on and bitch to. You really are a wonderful, wonderful friend ( and if you move I'll kick your lilly-white, hairy ass).

Hey, what's up...kinda disappeared on ya didn't I ??

See, I didn't mean to but I'm afraid something very sad has happened - my relationship of almost three years (2 years, 8 1/2 months, but it just gets so old saying that and then people just hear the "Two" part and totally discount the following 8 and 1/2 months) came to an end about a week and half ago.

So I've just been processing - or more likely "going through the motions" and avoiding any contact with the stark reality of what had really happened.

Have you ever done that ?? Made sure you only watched "comedies", listened to "cheerful dance songs" and tried to stay so busy there wasn't time to think.

It's funny though - theres always time to think.

You lay there "alone" (but for some weird reason you still only stay on "your" side of the bed) in the new, supposedly comfortable, but seemingly impossible to sleep on, bed (an unexpected purchase) and no matter how tired you are from moving to your own place and trying to explain (but not "explain" ) to your friends and family what went wrong - when did the happily (how embarrassing how I had told so many friends - soon to be married, or at least engaged) couple stop being 'happy', you don't sleep - you think. Questioning yourself like a B-Rate Movie Actor in a cheesy detective movie questioning a witness from a line-up. Motive? Weapon? Cause of Death?

Since Saturday, my first day in my new house, I kept wanting to fire-up the laptop buried somewhere among the boxes and explain where I've been, tell the story of what happened, where it all took a turn, why at 32 - I now need to learn how to attach the adjective "Single" to the description of who I am again. But instead I bought a couch at Pottery Barn, I began painting what will be my office some fancy-name for Blue by Ralph Lauren, I spent over a thousand dollars at Target buying plates and glasses and linens and pots & pans and ....well, you get the picture. Driving by the house we were having built that had just come to contract and we were to sign on four hours before we broke up. Life runs an odd, jagged path across our heart, through our mind and around our soul sometimes doesn't it ?

So I'm not sure if I'll really lay it out - it seems wrong for some reason - no matter how close I have come to some of my blogger buddies to wring out my heart on this pulsing computer screen, to admit failure, to cry on a keyboard...

...but for those of you who wondered, or worried:

I'm here, I'm around, I'm back.