from the AMNY Free News Paper in NY.
Page 2 – Spits out of Coma:
“A local television reporter has emerged from a coma, two months after she was struck in the side of the head by the side mirror of a passing van while covering a story in Harlem… She said she was thirsty and cold, and smiled when visitors spoke to her, NY1 reported. Spitz also nodded when her fiance, Steve Fullington, asked if she wanted to get married.”
Page 10 – Job Hunting for Sloths
“… Here’s a few of author Ernie J. Zelinski’s sage tidbits. They are so simple they’re hard to ignore: 1) Life will always be a major disappointment when you expect to get everything you want.”
Page 12 – Halle on the Mend
“Never one to do well in the relationship department (alas, we can’t have everything), Berry, 37, said she remains positive about the possibility of a future romance. ‘I’ve made some bad choices in that area, ‘ she said with a laugh. “I used to say that if there was a loser in town, I’d find him. But I don’t say that anymore. I’m changing the tape in the tape recorder. Now all I hear myself saying over and over again is that I’m going to find the right man.'”
… And with that I tossed the paper in the garbage. All the wrong messages were getting through today. I have to almost die for someone to ask me to marry them??? My life is always gonna be a major disappointment? What if I work HARD to get EVERYTHING I want???? Halle Berry… the single most beautiful, successful black woman alive… every man worships her… can’t seem to get it right? WHERE IS THE HOPE????
With the endless message of hopelessness I got in to the office today to find that the migration over to Outlook not only affected our mail files but it fucked up our Dreamweaver and adobe files. So… I didn’t get changes done on the site till noon… then had to rush to do some other changes before being in an hour long “training” (I could’ve taught the class) for the use of this new outlook.
I got together with some friends for dinner after work. And… the hopelessness continued. One friend exclaimed… Well… Umma need to change my name real soon and y’all won’t know the difference because I’ll fake real good. You’ll be like “she’s so in love”*dreamy eyed*. Fake?
We have to fake? for life? and turn around and be 45 and look at the person we’re faking for and say… I can’t do this for 30 more years. I just can’t. I need it to feel real. I need it to BE real. I need for the electricity to constantly be sparking between us. I need intellectual conversations to be abundant, for stuff besides greekdom and job piece. I need to feel like… THE SINGLE MOST beautiful person in the world. Because I KNOW he’ll feel like I king when I’m with him. I need to feel those things.
Or maybe I just think I do. But … by holding out… am I setting myself up for life being a constant disappointment? Do I need to go stick my head into traffic? and hope that I make it out in coma status so that a proposal waits on the other side? Lose all this weight to become drop dead gorgeous again… just to end up with someone who’ll cheat anyways?
I truly need a message of hope.