isn’t something I’m accustomed to. Earlier I saw the premiere of Average Joe 2, and now I feel no urge to write about it, despite how easy it would be. Television is great and something to look forward to, and I generally gain quite a bit of satisfaction from sharing my special insights with all of you, but I feel differently right now. I almost want to write something revealing, something that would give you a little glimpse (to quote Nicole Richie, to “just let you have something”), but then I realize that would be either boring and mundane or too embarassing.
So if I don’t write about The OC on Wednesday, you’ll have to realize I might be going through something that could make me want to write about animals, natural disasters, delicious food, or divorce. Please rest assured that I will never explicitly tell you what my mood is or what music I’m listening to as I write anything. Even if I wanted to, the only music I ever hear while I write in my blog is “Here Comes the Bride,” which rings out loud and true several times a day from the cell phone of this girl that sits near me at work. I’m not sure whether she’s getting married or if she just likes weddings.
One restless thought before I try to sleep in my small, small bed: The start of a new year is a strange time, full of fun and promise, sometimes disappointment, and usually excitement. I found it thrilling and confusing, eliciting more than one big, happy sigh colored by a dash of anxiety. 2004 has fallen on me like something really heavy and beautiful, and the one thing I must always remember is to dance, dance, dance.