Delta Dawn of the Dead...

I have to be up in a few hours to go to work. I will possibly be going to work green, as who knows how hard this makeup is to get off. But I am going to write some shit and eat some hot dogs, so there. Hah.

I am so in love with Halloween it's insane. I ran into this dude tonight that my Dad totally wants me to marry despite the fact that he looks like Derek Jeter and my Dad loves only the Red Sox and hates the Yankees so so much.

I discovered some important things in the past few nights, some good, some bad.

- I like the fact that I am still comfortable being hideous for Halloween.

- The diner next door to my apartment was obscenely busy, so while I waited for my hot dogs I bussed dishes because the lady who works there is always very nice to me. This is how things should work in life.

- My inability to throw away a crossword puzzle unfinished is affecting my sanity. Sometimes there isn't an answer, sometimes there isn't an explanation, and sometimes people are just douchebags. I am not Nancy Drew. I must become content with not having an answer or explanation to everything. Even though it is obscenely frustrating.

- In a somewhat perfect world, everyone would throw their crazy on the table.

What's the difference between the Today Show and Cosmo?

Not lipstick. Not much, actually, because an article featuring this exact same advice was featured in this month's Cosmo- along with the usual advice about new and exciting things to do to your man's taint (so not even joking about this.)

What? Like I don't have enough to do? What do you want from me, body language experts? Like, am I supposed to jump out and say "Ha! You're stressed! You're tugging your collar! I read that in Cosmo and saw it on the Today show so it must be true!" or "Oh my god! You love me! I just caught you pointing your belly button at me! I'm totally gonna go pick out bridesmaids dresses now!" or am I supposed to spend hours with my friends analyzing what some dude meant by the way he shrugged? What if the guy is just itchy because he's allergic to his fabric softener?

True story- Some dude once got all huffy at me in a bar because my pupils did not dilate while he was talking to me. He said that this meant that I was not interested in him/ attracted to him (which was true, but he probably could have also guessed that by the fact that my eyes were not only undilated, but also rolling)- and he, of course- being a weird drunk guy- demanded to know why. And I, of course, being me, excused myself to go to the ladies room and never came back. The End. The moral of the story? Analyzing people's body language makes you look like a total weirdo.

Missed Connection (but not really)

I saw a darling-ly handsome fella sitting on the stairs in front of the Second City building, while I was on my break yesterday. Bespectacled/behatted(which I know is not a word, but wouldn't it be great if it was?) and not possessing any unfortunate facial hair- he looked at me and I looked at him- or vice versa- before I took my usual place on the little stone square to smoke my cigarettes and read my book. But not really. I looked at him and I watched him get up and talk to some far less handsome man, and I tried to figure out if he was too short for me, or what. Not that it mattered, but hey. And I thought to myself- because I am person who spends far too much time on the internet- what if this fella were to send me a missed connection on the Craigslist? I have had three, actually- none of them romantic, all of them having something to do with something snarky I said to someone with skin too thin. I thought about what it would sound like "Tall dark haired girl, sitting Indian style on that random stone thingy with the tree coming out of it, reading a red book, smoking and eating a cookie: You seem fantastic!" or, you know, whatever people put in those things. But then what if I saw it and then, what if I responded?

It would probably be pretty awkward. He might turn out to be a serial killer, or just really, really boring. Maybe he'd talk too much about how his ex girlfriend shattered his heart into a million pieces, and I'd talk too much about...well, everything, because I tend to do that- and I'd probably go on about my commitmentphobic issues- not so much because I really do have them so much as it's kind of a knock on wood/spitting/salt throwing precaution. Because if things don't work out I want to have the advantage of being able to say that I didn't care if they did anyway. And if he didn't talk, I'd expend untoward amounts of effort trying to draw him out, which is something that is never really worth that effort- but you never realize that in the beginning, do you? We'd probably hang out for a while- and I'd enjoy the refreshing change of having something to talk about to my girlfriends other than politics, odd people I saw on the bus and the crazy French lady I work with- but sooner or later... I'd start weighing my options- is he more awesome than the effort required to hang out with him sucks? Is he worth shaving my legs and being tired at work? More than likely- no. He'd probably tell me that I was "emotionally unavailable" at some point, because they usually do, and they're usually right. I'd probably disappear at some point because that's what I do, because I don't get the point of talks, and when I'm done- that's good enough for me and I rarely feel the need to notify them of my decision. He'd want to still be friends, but I wouldn't because I think that's weird, and shit- I have enough friends, and I probably have higher standards for my friends than I do for the douche nozzles I date. Maybe he'd go all dingleberry on me for a while, which usually happens as well (you know, the little shit that keeps hanging on your ass? Even though it's clear you want nothing to do with them?) and then he'd probably get back together with his so-called "crazy and jealous" ex-girlfriend- who probably wasn't crazy and jealous to begin with- but you know how dudes are... they like to feel wanted.

Sigh. So that's what was going through my head. I can't help it- I'm a fatalist. I'm just so tired. I mean, I look at a guy, and think "God, you know, he's cute, but I feel exhausted already just looking at him. I already know how this movie ends" Maybe I'm just lazy?