I tied up the laces and fastened the clip on my roller blades. It’s tricky getting up the big gravel drive-way, but I have finesse and fantastic agility. I don’t stretch because that would make me feel too professional, like I was doing this for fitness reasons or as a sport or something. I begin slowly, thinking that I don’t want to burn out before I accomplish what I’ve set out to do. I start thinking about what I have to do tomorrow, what today meant in the long run and why I’m alive. It’s not enough. The therapy is no longer working. I long for my partner in skating crime, Lindsay Schuyler. I miss the chatting, the deep monologues, the truth spilling out when you just can’t hold it in. But is that really the problem? If she was here, what would I talk about? My mother’s new shoes, another night at Big Daddies? The problem, my life has become boring. So boring I have to find life elsewhere instead of in my own…life.

I’ve become indepthly invested in television as of late. I have personal feelings for the characters and find myself yelling at them when they walk across my small screen. It starts on Sundays with the Simpsons, who serve as an easy beginning. They don’t make me attached, they are just cartoons after all. It goes on to Arrested Development. This show is smart and funny, including hilarious scenes such as David Cross doing his best Ms.Doubtfire impression and trying to be Mary Poppins at the same time. I love the family and hate them, and Michael Blueth is hot. Next comes Desperate Housewives. Oh god, I’ve found my calling.

I’ve discussed this here before, but it’s a huge goal of mine. I want to play afternoon poker with Gabrielle, Lynette, Brie and Susan. Hell, even with Eddie. The drama is so intense with the murder, the secretly gay kid, the dying mother-in-law, etc. etc. I want to walk onto Wysteria Ln. and cause trouble, or be there for one of my girls. OR I could leave and go to their new neighbors place, Grey’s Anatomy. It’s a hospital drama, it’s E.R. meets Melrose, only without chokers and halter tops (so far). I guess the appeal here is that they are young and unsure like me. Only they have medical degrees. But they have bigger student loans, right? Again, this all still on Sunday.

On Monday I have the challenge. It’s Real World and Road Rules at it’s best. Sluts, drunks, jerks, Christians, spazzes, and everything else. I’ve really come to know and love these bastards. But I can’t wait to see which on them gets kicked off each week. Tuesdays used to be the Real World, but now I’m enthralled with Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. I actually watch this one everyday of the week cause it’s on USA religiously. I even tape it sometimes. It’s gotten to the point where I watch it so much on tape that when it’s on real TV I forget and still try to fast forward through the commercials. It’s a mess. But Dect. Benson is an idol. I love her. I’d even go straight I think. I think. ok, no.

Wednesday’s is my new fascination, LOST. I am officially up to speed and craving for Locke to die soon. He scares me and knows too much without sharing. The bastard. And if gets Boone killed I will be really mad. Boone is hot. The secrets here are the best all week. People are nuts when they are stranded on an island. I feel attached, I feel like starving myself so I can join them. I want to not shower and wear a bathing suit with them. Sad. Thursday nights I don’t watch TV. I used to go bowling, but that’s over now. The league ended and I’m too poor to join a new one. Instead I drink with my parents. It’s depressing, but at least it’s free. I also like to watch Roseanne on weekday nights at bedtime. Dan Conner, he is a real trooper.

The weekends I try my best to stay away from TV, which usually includes singing karaoke with d.j. Uncle Buck at Big Daddies. It’s as weird as it sounds. My hits are Desperado and Heartache Tonight. Sometimes I sing Bohemian Rhapsody. Anyway, I wake up Saturday feeling like shit and vow not to go out on Saturday night. I usually watch lots of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit then. It’s on four times in a row. Then the cycle starts over again, it’s back to Sunday.

I want a life again. I want friends. I want people to care about, people to hate, people to laugh with, confide in, get secrets from, tell secrets too, be stupid with, miss when they aren’t around. I just really need someone to be around all the time so we can have inside jokes, good memories, unnecessary Hallmark moments and petty fights which we make up from. I miss that about life. I miss relationships that aren’t with my family. I miss being me, something I felt I haven’t been in two and half months.


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