Sunday Nite Montage

(If I was a filmmaker, this would be a montage...trust me)

I am trapped by the incessant narrative dancing across my brain. Sometimes I fight to suppress, strangle and suffocate the monologue. I always lose. Why do I resist putting pen to paper, fingertip to keyboard, voice to thought?

Because sometimes it is sad or afraid or irrelevant or ridiculous. O well.

Saturdays are often the perfect excuse to stay under the covers, eat terribly fattening foods and watch Lifetime movies.

I grind my teeth. A lot. People can hear it over the phone...I'm doing it right now.

Watching a PG-13, wide-release movie that would be a rated-R, obscure indie flick if it didn't feature the world's most "dreamy" vampire is a surreal and entertaining experience. Especially when all the teenage girls giggle uncontrollably at the first love scene and even more so when the Mormon family in front of you (who is only there because Alice in Wonderland was sold out and they mistakenly thought this was a good substitute)gets up and leaves after the second love scene and the one, allowable "f@#k" invades the theatre.

Sometimes a wild mushroom risotto is the only way to scratch that itch.

Returning to your first love can be surprisingly gratifying. My first true love was Chateau St. Chapelle's Johannisburg Riesling. Terri and I LOVED that wine--and it loved us back. Since my palate has evolved, the delicious sweetness has become unbearable; however, I recently purchased a St. Chapelle Dry Riesling. It is divine. It's such a delight to revisit your first love and find those arms still warm and ever-so-welcoming.

The realization that I'm almost 40 and basically starting over on so many levels is both terrifying and exhilarating.

I don't think I'll ever stop biting my cuticles. Ever.

The sound of my cat meowing is like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Finally posting a blog after more than 10 days of silence: priceless.