kiwifruit's Diaryland Diary

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Something old ...

First the old stuff �

Back again. I�ve been frolicking about, nowhere near a computer for most of last week so of course when I came back to the dotcomedy I was swamped with (gasp!) work. Balls. No fun at all. Really, this smash back into reality has hit rather hard. And honestly, all joki-ness and levity aside.

It�s kind of bumming me out.

But, of course, I am absolutely incapable of dealing with any slight feelings of disgruntlement and anxiety I may have (denial is such a warm and fuzzy place). It�s 5pm, I just ordered a LARGE ice coffee with extra skim and one equal. I believe this may be my third of the day. Though I switched from whole milk to skim because of course I am convinced that I�m ballooning up like a monster. Hey, this is what anxiety does to me, what can I say? Just this weekend I was frolicking about in a bikini feeling pretty near human if I do say so myself. Now, four days later I am suddenly huge and generally un-human. Perhaps it�s PMS? More likely I am just insane. And I don�t want to hear three cheers of agreement from you Nicks! The good things about friends is that they�re supposed to ignore your blaring faults. Right?

Right.

Any-hoo, in the interest of ignoring all that is meaningful and important in my life, here is what I�m obsessing about lately:

Julia and Ben�s breakup. How tragic, the reason being twofold. First, how embarrassing to be all slobbery and generally sickening just months ago while accepting your Academy Award �None of this means anything without having someone to come home to � blah, blah, blah�. Second, is it just me or is poor Julia possibly the only woman alive worse than I am at relationships? I mean really �

Lizzie Grubman mowed down a bunch of her �friends� with her SUV last weekend in the Hamptons. Aint no amount of PR gonna get her out of this one.

Madonna and Gwynnie and their inability to go anywhere without the other present are really aggravating. �Oh Mo, you�re so fabulous�! /�No, Gwynnie you are ��/ �No, you are!�/ �No YOU are� � and so on.

Along the same lines � have Brad Pitt and Jennifer Anniston done ANYTHING separately since they got married?

Has anyone seen Raquel Welch lately? She is a walking advertisement about why NOT to get plastic surgery.

Thank GOD that Tara Reid and Carson have �officially� announced their breakup. Hopefully we won�t have to see any more pictures of them together EVER again. Hopefully we won�t have to see Tara�s navel EVER again or Carson�s oversized head.

Coming in second (or on equal par) as most aggravating and most over-photographed two-some. The Hilton sisters. Yuck. And I refuse to believe that Jared Leto (aka Jordan Catalano) dumped Cameron Diaz for Paris Hilton. Please, make it not be true.

Okay, I�m done obsessing.

C. is off to California this weekend for the wedding of a college buddy. I like to say that I chose not to go because airfare was expensive, and we�re going to Italy in September so we need to save money, and I don�t know the guy getting married anyway, and it�s just going to be a big drunken frat party so why bother. But in reality, I would have been on the next plane out West with C. if he�d wanted me to. But, I guess he didn�t want me to. Aw, come on, it will be good to have a few days apart right? At this point my bedroom in my apartment resembles a giant dumping ground. I enter in the morning, change to go to the gym, return and change to go to work (or to put on stiflingly hot job hunt outfit), return and change to casual gear and then leave for C.�s. During the week we are in bed by 10:30pm with our books propped up on our laps. At one point I think he actually expressed the desire for a clapper so neither of us had to get up and turn the light off. Scary.

So off he goes to California tomorrow and I�m left to my own devices. When I get over the mild feeling of abandonment panic, I am actually kind of excited. I am picturing air conditioned hours at Barnes & Noble, to be followed by air conditioned hours in movie theatres, and then air conditioned hours at the gym (if the AC at Crunch is working � always a toss up). Ah yes, true romance, just me and the AC unit. I also have this bizarre desire to go to the Bronx Zoo and see all the baby animals. This is an activity I really can�t do with C. as I will without a doubt be cooing and acting like a stereotypical 30-year-old woman without a child who wants to birth just about anything as long as it�s small and cute. Horrifying.

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