Here Goes Something!

Blogging. I don't really know what it's all about, but I keep hearing about it. It must be the new "thing to do" in the ever-evolving world of cyberspace. Which is perfect, because I was just looking for something new to fill my time with. The sarcasm is oozing in here! Have to fill my time being productive, constructive, and positive. I sure hope keeping a "blog/diary" (could that also be coined a bloggery?) will help in that endeavor. It's worth a shot.
Bang!

The Love of My Bloggery

Yes. I'm still here. And, believe it or not, still just as lonely and tortured as I have been. It is getting easier, though. Being "alone" doesn't always have to carry the depressingly negative connotation that people say it with. I've started to rather enjoy having so much time to myself; reading, doing projects, playing the piano, or just watching television. It's not all that bad. Mind you, coming from someone who has almost always based her own self worth on what others think, that is a bold statement. So, I'll say it again: It's not that bad. Would I like to have someone around that enjoys my company and makes me feel important? Of course. After all, isn't it a part of our nature as humans to crave the acceptance and approval of another, preferably of the opposite sex? That craving still exists in me, but maybe I have found a way to curb it. Either that, or I've just completely lost hope that anyone would ever want anything to do with a bitchy, self-absorbed, almost-thirty-something with entirely too much baggage and even more attitude. I find that dwelling on the latter of the two tends to bring me down. Shocking, I know. Lately, I have been day dreaming about how to find a man that would accept me "carte blanche", if you will. Someone who would love me, issues and all, without question or exception. Someone that knows the meaning of "To err is human, but to forgive is divine". These days it seems people are extraordinarily flighty; one false step and you'll find yourself back at Square One, undoubtedly by your lonesome. It is as if we are now guided (or misguided) by an unrealistic set of standards. And, these "standards" become the rules somewhere along the way. But ask if we know where the hell they came from, and you'll get some clusterfuck of an answer that makes the whole situation that much more ridiculous. As if the insanity one suffers from is somehow justified because it can be expressed verbally. Just because you can put sentences together that are somewhat convincing and coherent does not mean that you have the slightest clue as to what you're talking about. I'm venting. I'm frustrated with the world and its inhabitants, and I'm teetering on being irrational. And, needless to say, this is exactly why I am sitting at home alone. My standards that morphed into The Rules have convinced me that I'm right; hence, all others fall desperately short of being worthy of my time or consideration. The irony of it all is that I still have the inherent need to be accepted, needed, wanted, etc. Not going to get very far like this, am I?