Entry #77 - Difficult to Love

Dear Diary,
   
I don't even know where to begin. Perhaps with this:

Forgive me Blogger, for I have sinned.
It has been 348 days since my last blog entry.

Entry #76 - Depression, Regression, Confession

 

We meet again. 

Depression

Why yes, that IS a Harry Potter reference. 

The first two weeks of summer were spent walking a picket line, which, if you have never had the pleasure of experiencing first hand, is demoralizing, frustrating, and depressing in ways usually reserved for online dating or the assembly of Ikea furniture. Upon further reflection I have realized that these seemingly disparate activities all have one thing in common: getting screwed; either literally, emotionally, figuratively, and/or financially. 

As the strike wore on with no resolution in sight, my despondency increased.  The smug, dismissive, and self-righteous attitude of my employer was eerily reminiscent of other sanctimonious clowns I have dealt with...and as we all know, arguing logic with clowns is a tiresome and frustrating business that usually results in pulling ones hair and yelling "I feel like I'm taking CRAZY pills!", Mugatu style. 

Entry #75 - The Sequel

I had a blog once.

Please accept this Darth Vader Valentine as an apology for disappearing without explanation.
Be thankful, it's more than I have received from most men. 

Blogging - The Sequel

WA POW! I'm back! Like that obnoxious, self-important, blogging spinster whom you so desperately wished would stop writing about her feelings on the internet.

...Whoa...

I need to warm-up a little bit. The metaphors and similes are obviously a bit rusty. 

I wasn't entirely joking last blog when I said that I kinda felt like dropping the mic and walking off the stage post-unicorn. I mean, what else does one really have to say after declaring to the world that thou hast slayeth the unicorn? Nothing, that's what. Everything is hot garbage after that. The unicorn is the spinster holy grail, and once I achieved it I completely lost all focus and direction. I lost the will to blog for a while there, guys...coincidentally, I also found both "Scandal" and "Suits". God, Harvey Specter does things to me.

Entry #74 - My Career as a Leg Model Takes Off, But My Immune System Fails

You should invite me to come with you when you try on wedding dresses, though I may show up wearing leopard-print rain boots and suffering from bronchitis. I'm helpful like that. As pictured above. 

Dear Diary, 

      There is something about late September/October that always results in me falling off the blog bandwagon, and this year was apparently no exception.

For a long while it felt like there was simply nothing to say post-Unicorn. It happened, I wrote about it, and then it was like there was nothing left to do but drop the proverbial mic and walk off the stage. 

One of my 7-year-old students gave this to me, and yes, it is a unicorn blowing a bubble and saying "Naa".
I couldn't think of anything more perfectly symbolic if I tried. 

"I slayed a unicorn" 

*drops mic and never blogs again*

But we know that if I stop blogging The Terrorists win, and we just can't have that. So here we go again...

Entry #73 - Exit Surveys & Participation Ribbons

(If you didn't catch Entry #72, this one might be a tad confusing)

Dear Diary,

Well, bitches, The Unicorn is gone, so we're back to me taking pictures of myself in bed with Augustus, my flamboyant MaineCoon-Cross. Oh. Happy. Day.

Sigh.

I predicted it. It was far too good to be true and it had to come to an end.

We saw it coming, like a freight train down the track. We braced for impact.

It still kinda sucked.

Sometimes, in this life, you just want someone to prove you wrong.

That being said, I can't bring myself to regret it. Not even a little bit. This adventure fundamentally changed my perception of myself and what I am capable of. Apparently I had been limiting myself to the cupboard under the stairs, not knowing that I had an invitation from Hogwarts in the mail.

The universe briefly gifted me with a Unicorn, and that experience will be vividly emblazoned in my mind for as long as my synapses are firing, and perhaps even beyond. I will probably be that inappropriate little old lady at the nursing home; I won't know where I am or who I am, nor will I recognize my great-great nieces and nephews, but I will still be talking about "that time I slayed a unicorn".

"Did I tell you about that time I slayed a unicorn, Ava ?"
"It's Eva, Auntie Hannah, and yes, just this morning you told that story, remember?"
"Like one of those marble statues of Adonis, he was...you should have seen his - "
"OKAY! - time for lunch!"