meh.

I am such a slob when it comes to this blog. I blame facebook, really. It's nice to just hastily spit out one or two sentences to tell the world what you are thinking - which isn't a whole lot to begin with - instead of writing paragraph after paragraph while knowing you are going nowhere with anything you are saying. But my blog, which started at the now very dead greylogs.com and has seen many forms since, holds a very special place in my heart. I started it right after I joined nancies (curse you, RLC), which is why it has always been in English. Bad English. Benglish, there you go. And it has allowed me to keep in touch with some extraordinary folks - including yourself.

I haven't been up to much, really. I've been working (duh), taking care of the boy (duh) and I've been writing that 'novel', if you may call it that. The only complication in that respect is turning out to be the death of it. I need a lot of imagination for this plot and that's kind of hard to keep tapping into when live merely consists of errands, more errands, trivial work stuff that needs my attention no matter how trivial for the sake of keeping my job and the constant, immense, insane worry about my little boy who is the light of my world, and has now found a new way to keep me tossing and turning - he strangles, bites, kicks and slaps any other kid that comes near him. Awesome, no?

But that 'novel', which probably won't ever see the public light of day, is even more important to me than this blog. The motives in it are some of the issues that I feel the most passionate about (the injustice of modern democracy, music, mental growth slash platoism (I hope that's a word in English, not just Benglish) and most of all friendship slash love). It's hard not to write it entirely in Benglish by the way. Some parts of it are in Benglish - the correspondence is. Oooh, I'm such a tease, aren't I?

Anyway, on with the practical: I'm leaving for Naples/Napels/Napoli in November for an extended weekend, got my tickets for an awesomest Blof show in December (happy birthday to me) and I haven't had sex since January. I haven't had any great sex since I can't remember. Does that bother me? It's starting to. Most of all, I miss having a crush. Being in love, I can do without right now. I just really would like to really like someone.

I'm 36 and look like I haven't slept in 100 years, I know. Shut up.

In other, somewhat related news: I accidently weighed myself when we took the boy to the pediatrician. He wouldn't get on the scale so we just weighed me, me with him and presto, there was boys weight. And presto again, there was my weight, for the first time since I was sixteen. Yes, I have not weighed myself since I was sixteen. I never said I don't have any issues. Anyway, I'm three kilos heavier than back when I was sixteen. I'm not complaining. And will never quite smoking again. HAHAHAHA. Just kidding.

Am I?

I love you!