One might think that I'd learn not to blog (or send emails, for that matter) when I'm drunk (though one might be surprised at my ability to compose coherent sentences when in such a state).  One might also think that I'd learn not to be too negative about life or men in blog postings due to the amount of people who think I'm about to apply a freshly sharpened razor to my wrists over a bad day or week.  One would, of course, be wrong.

 

While I do like sympathy every now and then and while I do have bad days and like to write about them, on the whole, I'm quite well-adjusted.  I tend to see the few bad days that I have scattered amongst the many average days and more-frequent-than-I-probably-deserve good days as a good contrast in a well-balanced life. 

 

However, I do love to wallow for a day or two when I have bad days, and I tend to get a bit of an itch to write when wallowing, and I always find my rants to be so much more fun to read and write than my standard updates.  Anyway, I'm fine, and I don't hate men, but I do see a hint of my old, not-pretty bitterness sneaking back when I thought I'd seen the last of it.  I'm hoping that expressing it may help me be honest with myself about how I may be sabotaging potential dates as well as give those who are confused why I am sometimes bitter an idea of why I am sometimes bitter.

 

Now that that's out of the way, I can get back to the real story.  So I did, indeed, get stood up for my dinner and theater date.  It has now been a full week since I've heard from Mr. Overseas.  I don't know what happened to him (and, "no name" comment guy #2, I'd love to tell Mr. Overseas off face-to-face (or really, have dinner or go to a show face-to-face), but the whole point is that I can't get him to answer an email or even prove that he's alive, so that'd be a bit hard).  I'm beginning to think that something bad has happened to him, since he didn't seem the type not to reply to email or be offline for a full week.  I do hope that he's okay. 

 

Oddly, once he missed the show on Friday night, my anger dissolved.  I think its left-over residue may be staining the mountain of disappointment which is still standing strong, but I'm just not all that angry about it anymore.  I've quit waiting by the phone and moved on.  I wouldn't say that I'm wallowing anymore (which means that it'll likely be many weeks before the next blog posting ;).

 

As for the show, I wasn't able to find anyone to go with, so I went alone.  It turned out that that may have been a good thing, since I needed both seats to keep myself from being engulfed by the two women of ample size on either side of the seats.  It could have been cozy for a date, but not so much for a friend.  It was probably the only empty seat there, though. 

 

The show itself was fantastic.  It was everything that I wanted the book to be, but the book just didn't do it for me.  The story threads were tied together well; the acting and singing was amazing; and it was just fun.  I would very highly recommend seeing it if it comes to your city any time.