i'm thinking the wimple and cloister sounds good.
3.5 miles. A nice short run.
Please to explain the career of David Arquette.
Also: can you explain this "Syndicate" series of commercials for 7-Up? God, they're awful. Remind me not to drink that soda. (Not that I ever would. I just like to point out their advertising isn't working.)
Short, shameful confession: I love Cuba Gooding, Jr., totally in those Pepsi One commercials. He's so adorable. I've almost considered buying the product.
I must be a very unlovable person.
I get plenty of feedback from the universe that this is true.
This is not to say that people don't like me. They do. Once they get to know me, they seem to think I'm just fine. The key being "once they get to know me." I think. I hope.
I just don't seem to inspire much interest from people. I wouldn't start a club on Yahoo--no one would show up.
Two things brought this on recently:
- I'm giving an Oscar party and have NO idea if anyone I invited is coming.
- I wanted to have a baby shower/party for my friend Mary, and no one's interested.
Talk about embarrassing. "Oh hi. No one likes me, so there won't be any baby shower. Sorry."
I've always wanted to be the center of attention. I want lots of people to seek me out, to want to be with me, to hang on my every word. I want to inspire passion.
I don't.
I think I must be fairly dull and boring, actually. I'm beginning to be amazed I found a guy who wanted to have a second date with me.
In real life, most people don't know I'm alive. I don't know how to develop charisma, that certain glamour that has people running to you. You know, if I'm doing something, they want to do it too. I know you're not supposed to admit to wanting to be like that, but I do. I want to be the center of attraction and all I ever am is one of the hangers-on. I don't know what the secret is, but if I ever figure it out, I will be a happy camper.
Example of this in action: People keep running after Darin, calling him, seeking him out, even when he never returns their phone calls and never makes time to see them.
A friend of mine from Stanford, with whom I haven't corresponded for a year and a half, wrote me out of the blue yesterday. It made my day to hear from him. I'd lost his e-mail address. Most of the people I know from whom I've fallen away just don't contact me.
(I'm back in the depths of moroseness, in case you can't tell.)
The frozen shoulder appears to be back, with a vengeance. Ow.
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Copyright 1999 Diane Patterson
Send comments and questions to diane@spies.com