There Is No Balance, Only Chaos

"You have to take the good with the bad."

Who said that shyt? Who was it? Because I want to personally inflict some pain on them.

Why? Why must I take the good with the bad? I only ordered good- why did you garnish my good with bad?

On the heels of becoming THE MASTER OF FINE ARTS (it just never gets old...) a couple of great developments have been in the works for me and my writing career. I'm a superstitious person so I won't go into details about what those developments are, but trust that they are very exciting and I'm channeling all my good thoughts in that direction.

But what I'm finding is that this potential greatness comes with a price. It would appear that for my career to be doing well my love life needs to suffer. I didn't plan it that way, it just happened. It wasn't too long ago that I was juggling quite a few dudes, for better or worse, but they have slowly but surely either gotten on my nerves or just faded away.

Jack might say this happened because I was only using those dudes to lick my wounds after THE BREAKUP HEARD 'ROUND THE WORLD, and that there was no substance behind any of those faux-relationships. If L read this blog she'd probably say it was because some of them were people I met through online dating sites and that "wack-ass men like that are online for a reason!"

And they would both be right (You know...sometimes I stay up late at night shivering at the thought of L and Jack actually meeting and discussing what a fuck-up I am and how TIRED they are of picking up the pieces of my constantly breaking heart).

But still. Even if I've not been actively looking for substance and have ONLY been looking for eye candy (in all the wrong places) that I can parade in my ex's face, something's gotta be up when BOTH of my recent exes are already in serious relationships and I'm still in limbo biting my thumb at love as if I am going to be this young and pretty forever.

So another weekend approaches where I realize that at the end of the night I will be going home alone, Jaded NYer that I am. I mean, I can go home with someone and have meaningless sex and then leave afterwards like a thief in the night. No problem. That's my specialty. Google the phrase "thief in the night" and you might just find a picture of me creeping into a cab at 4AM.

But what I'm (finally) looking for is someone that, when I have such fantabulous career news to share, I can come home to and be happy with. (jeez...the grammar in that sentence was APPALLING!)

And even though my sweet Lani has all the faith in the world that I will not end up alone (god bless her positive little heart), my confidence level in matters of the heart is holding steady at -3 trillion.

Why can't I be successful AND in love? Is that really truly madly too much to ask?

*smooches...on the verge of true success...and still lonely*
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Can you hear my voice, do you hear my song
It's a serenade, so your heart can find me,
And suddenly you're flying down the stairs
Into my arms, baby