If I was Diane Rehms, this would be a more relevant roundup

So one of my friends came up to me the other day and said "I don't understand your blog anymore." I don't know, I think it's pretty easy. I can't think of anything real to write about, so I let strangers on the internet ask me banal questions and spend five minutes a day answering them. But whatever, apparently he wants to know actual things going on in my life.

Well, we can talk about my love life. I can make a list for you. Lists are easy.
I currently have:
3 guys I would go on a date with immediately if they were at all interested in me, which they are not.
2 guys who are interested in me.
1 guy who I think about a large portion of the day, in a happy, turned-on, buzzed sort of way.
1 guy who I think about a large portion of the day, in a sad, unhappy, also kind of turned-on sort of way
2 of the above mentioned guys have the same name.
1 Nuva ring stuck in up there, that I had to use my vibrator to push into a deep enough place until I felt fairly certain it was not going to fall out. And I'm still not sure about it.
5 pamphlets on birth control that might be made into some sort of artwork. Planned Parenthood is mass murdering trees.

Dating is a weird thing, a weird awkward thing. And it's strange coming out of a long relationship into a short casual one, cause I feel like I'm being too comfortable. I had to remind myself to not walk around completely naked, and I had to somewhat clean my house and maybe even keep it somewhat clean. I have to not talk about my cats all the time. I immediately want to fall back into old habits and expectations, and I constantly have to tell myself "he's the new guy, not the old guy." But it's fun, in a weird awkward way. I'm getting there. It's easier and harder than I thought it would be.

I spend most of my day in the house working. I have not shoveled my driveway yet because I'm counting on the Mid January thaw to bail me out. I'm constantly impressed by how big our icicles get in Cleveland, and expect one to kill me any day now.

I'm broke as a joke. That's nothing new.

My hair is getting really long. It needs to be cut down. I might need to call the city tree workers to come do it.

I have a lot more phone conversations with friends these days, and it reminds me of being in high school and spending hours on the phone with someone you just saw all day. Most of those conversations are about other friends, which is also very high school.

My downstairs neighbors moved out, and even though I can now make as much noise as I want, I generally don't, out of habit. Also, I've started locking the downstairs door, because I realized I'm in this house all alone now. I actually realized this when I saw that new guy was locking my door every time he left, which I don't do and really nobody does. It's funny how something like that means a lot to me.

So I guess to sum up my life right now, I'm in the midst of trying to break a bunch of habits. It's like being in self-imposed rehab. I'm about to break out the post-it notes any moment now.

My mother is taking donations to an orphanage in Mexico she's visiting next month, and I'm making a half hearted attempt to help her, even though everyone is all about Haiti right now. No one thinks about Haiti when there isn't a natural disaster, even though it's fucked all year round.

John Oliver is quickly becoming my new favorite.
I'm listening to a lot of crap, and wish I had some music that wasn't crap, but it all sounds like crap to me these days.
I'm making a bowling victory belt for work, don't ask.
I'm addicted to Starbucks double shots, and I've been living off of cheese quesadillas because it's the easiest thing to make. I do actually have some vegetables in the fridge. I think my gums are telling me I have scurvy, so I'm trying to correct that. I recently bought a bottle of siracha for my fridge, and use it constantly.

Happy?