would you love me gagged and tied?

by mg at 11:18 AM on April 22, 2002

If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been sort of out of journaling mode the last couple weeks. Only 7 or 8 posts so far in April has got to my low water mark for the year and a half I’ve been doing this.

It isn’t that I’m sick of blogging, because that isn’t it. I still find joy in writing, and sharing, and in reading what other people have got to say about themselves (and me). It isn’t that I’m too busy, because that certainly isn’t it. I mean, I’ve watched four baseball games in the past 10 days, if that doesn’t scream that I’ve got time to kill I don’t know what would. And it isn’t that nothing worthwhile has been going on in my life; I’ve been out nearly every night over the past week, I’ve had a couple job interviews, and some good progress with the mystery date.

I’m not sure what it is exactly, and I’m not willing, at this point, to do the psychological self-inspection that would be necessary to figure out the problem. So, I’ll just write when I feel like it, and wont when I don’t. That’s about as much as I can ask of myself, and I hope as much as you’ll accept from me.

Besides, the rest of the crew has been ably picking up my slack the last couple weeks. I knew this merging blogs thing was a good idea, despite the pain in the ass it took to get it working.

So, expect a quiet mg for a while, though I do have an interesting (possibly only to me) little story from one of my birthday nights. I went out with quicksilver and eviltom (of left field comment fame). Tom insisted on telling everyone in the bar that it was my birthday. Now, I think it should be pretty obvious by now that I hate a spectacle, and can’t stand being the center of attention. Think of me as the anti-Kathy Lee.

At some point later in the evening, one of our waitresses came over, and said asked if she could sing a song for me that her and her friends sing to each other on their birthdays. Now, I was preparing to be awfully uncomfortable for a minute, but she was hot, and I can’t turn down a womanly propostion. She sort of reminded me of Alicia from Survivor Outback, only with smaller muscles and bigger boobs. So, I agreed. This was her song:

This is your birthday song, it isn’t very long

She did a very cute little jump and clap at the end that just killed me. Seriously.

If the bar wasn’t way the hell up on West 105th street, I’d have gone back up the next day, and lied about it really being my birthday that night just to hear the song again. But, come on, even I’m not that desperate. Yet.