So my crush is finally over and I'm happy about it. The cutie hottie guy who I was having a crush on is turning out to be a nice and supportive friend, too much of a friend for me to really have a crush on I guess, so the crush disappeared. But it's great because now I have this like super nice really cute guy as a friend and what girl wouldn't want that.

This guy, this cute guy is so supportive of me. He gave my screenplay a great review and his comments were very insightful. I think he kind of likes me because he introduced me to his friends as this "disciplined screenwriter with a million ideas" which I'm so not, but it was sweet of him anyway. I think this means he admires me, but who knows. Still, it was a nice way to introduce me, I mean he could have said worse things.

He's just such a nice guy and so cute as heck to boot and nice cute guys for friends are hard to find. He'll make a great boyfriend for some lucky girl some day, just not me. But that's okay, because he's a friend. And you want your friends to be happy and you want them to have everything they've ever wanted.

So my search for love and companionship continues.

I wish I could be like other people, the rest of the world. I wish I could go through life and party every night and go to work during the day and not worry about contributing to the world, not worry about making a difference, not worry about lifting the consciousness of the world and trying to make the world just a little bit of a better place.

Instead, I'm like such a messed up freak who feels like I was born to make a difference in this world, who worries whether I'm leading a mediocre life, an ordinary life, who worries that I'm leading a life without purpose and direction and that all I'm doing is taking up space on this planet and pissing it away by drinking and partying, and making meaningless conversation with people, some of whom I wish to marry and breed kids with and start a family and live to a ripe old age, and then one day lie on my death bed and realize I haven't done anything worthwhile with my life.

No, I'm the freak who wants to make a difference, who feels so different from the rest of the world and who cries at night at the unfairness of being born different and not feeling like everybody else. I'm tired of being different. I want to be ordinary and just party and drink myself to death. I want to go to parties and not think it's like the biggest waste of time. I want to have a good time and not feel guilty that I'm not at home writing or doing my art, that I'm not fulfilling the purpose of my life, that I'm living a fucking life of mediocrity and not caring.

But I do care and I do feel guilty and I feel torn, because it is nice to be like everybody else. But somehow I just can't and I feel cursed, so cursed, like why was I drafted, why was I picked, why was I made different and why in hell do I suffer so much when I'm not writing and doing my art.

If this is a test on how to lead a balanced life of art and the rest of my life, then I'm failing this very badly. All I want to do is to curl up in a ball and cry and cry and cry, cry till I can't cry anymore, knowing full welll that all my tears will not make a difference to my life, not make it any easier, except to dispel the incredible sadness that I feel.

I'm so tired of being different. It's such a lonely state to be. I wish I could find someone else who felt as dedicated to their art as I was. Who understood the need I have to be alone and create my art, who understood the need I have to just be by myself so I can wind down and recharge all my creative juices again.

I know I don't know what I want. Part of me wants to live an ordinary and meet some guy and fall in love and marry and have a kid. But the other part, the bigger part does not want any part of that mediocrity and would rather live alone so I can devote my life to my art, to my life purpose, to my destiny. And I feel so torn in two, because god, it would be so nice to come home to someone and just lay in their arms and know that I am sharing my life with a man that I love. But I will not do that and sacrifice my art.

I know there's a middle ground somewhere. I wish I could find it. But I haven't been able to so far. And while part of me fears that I'll end up a lonely white haired old witch living alone, the other part of me fears a worse future where I do not write, where I do not create art. And right now, both futures look bleak, very bleak and so I cry and I rail, and I wish I had my own wailing wall so I can just wail away at God for giving me the writing bug, the creative life bug. And yet the other part of me wants to fall down to my knees and pray in gratitude to God for giving me the urge to write, the urge to be creative, the urge to live an extraordinary life. I just wish God would also have given me an instruction manual on how to reconcile the two great wants of my life.

Not sure what to write today. All these terrorists warnings have spooked me and I feel like I'm in 9/11 mode again. Every day the warnings come. Is this what it's like to live in Israel? Does this mean the suicide bombers now control the world? It's a strange world we live in and I think it's only going to get stranger as the year goes on.

I couldn't write so I watched Heartburn on TV. What a funny movie! And Jack Nicholson, oh my god, he kept reminding me of old boyfriend Paul. Is that why Jack is such a popular actor? Because there's something about him that's just so darn cute! I find it horrifyingly funny that I dated a Jack Nicholson look alike and Paul had all of Jack's movies too. Jack was Paul's favorite actor. And I know I saw this movie before but I forgot that Jack Nicholson played Carl Bernstein of the Woodward/Bernstein Watergate fame. How funny!

I've gotten more reviews on my screenplay and for the first time in my life ever, the critiques aren't freaking me out, like a review of my work usually does. This is such a breakthrough for me. Usually, I attach so much meaning to having my work reviewed. Like oh my god, they're killing me and my baby and it's murder, cruel murder. But now it's like I'm happy to get reviewed because it tells me what I need to do to improve on my story. It's like free editing. To have your work edited costs like $75 and up an hour and I'm getting my editing for free and by five different editors, with different points of views, so if somebody missed something, another person will point it out. And what's interesting is if some of them like the same scenes, it then tells me that the scene works and I don't have to worry about editing it.

I love this review thing, it's so cool. Does this mean I am evolving as a writer, or am I just like too cheap to pay for editing? It's such a change of heart for me.

And I feel so much joy lately. I think it's due to my wingie thingies. The wing chakras open you up to joy and it's working because I experience waves of joy all the time and right now, I have nothing in my life to be particularly happy about. But like who cares, because I've got this joy thing going and I hope these feeling never go away. It's like being high on a drug all the time except I'm not depressed because I'm slowly destroying my health. Okay, maybe I'm slowly destroying my mind, but I don't care because I'm happy, so very, very happy.

It's like that weird movie I saw as a kid once on TV called "What's So Bad About Feelig Good?" I mean, what is so bad about feeling good all the time, it's way better than being on prozac or paxil or other prozac derivatives for the rest of your life. It's natural and it's fun and it's like such a trip, a big old trip that you hope never ever ends.

So the crush still lives on for another day ... maybe because I feel like it's 9/11 all over again and I'm finally feeling the urge to merge. For some reason I feel poetic about the whole thing, so here goes.

Ode to a beautiful man with sparkling blue eyes, who haunts my waking hours and sometimes my nights. You scare me. You distract me from my purpose, from my true ambition in life, the one I've been looking for all my life and now have finally found after all these years. I have been resisting you since February and managed to do a pretty good job of it unitl these last few weeks.

Where did I go wrong?

You make all my other loves, except of course the first one, pale in comparison, but then you are both Fire signs and I have I think, subconsciously avoided your type all these years. But now you've come into my life, at a time just when I am starting to feel comfortable with my wonderful state of single bliss.

I do not know what it is about you that fascinates me to no end, that brings me waves of joy and fun lust whenever I think about you. You're a marina boy type, even though I know you don't live in that neighborhood and I am so not a marina girl.

I feel despondent to think that all the other loves in my life never amounted to what I feel about you. I feel an unwilling victim to your masculinity, your smile, your hunkaliscious bod, your witty sense of humor and your cute smile.

And god, you're such a guy-guy. Not a wimpy northern california type who's afraid to be a real "guy-guy". I never felt what I feel for you, not even for Brian and Steve, my twin loves from a few years ago. Men I thought I couldn't live without, men I thought were this girl's idea of a mouth watering biscuit, ready to be devoured and savoured for each delicious bite.

No, I think I worship you and I've never worshipped any man in my life. And it was like from the get go, when I saw from across the room and my heart started jumping at the sight of such a beauty. But that's all I thought you were, beautiful but a distraction. And so I ran, and so I walked the other way when I saw you coming and you responded in kind. But life, with its odd sense of humor, has kept you in my orbit and I found myself unable to ignore your considerable and most incredible charms, especially when I sat with you in class every week.

And you are still in my life and I am falling desperately and deeply in crush. I tried to intellectualize what I feel about you, putting my crush down to pure animal like lust, because after all, you are beautiful specimen of a man. And what girl wouldn't feel what I feel. I mean, I've even watched the teeming hordes of women fall all over themselves to talk to you and I told myself I never wanted to compete for such a prize.

I've never believed in love at first sight. I used to laugh at friends who told me they looked across the room and saw the person they were destined to spend the rest of the life with, who they ended up marrying and now live with happily ever after. No, I believed in lust at first sight, but never love. And yet, I feel like I'm in love, even though I don't know you very well. God, I don't even know what you smell like, what you dream about, what you fear and most of all, what you love.

I don't kid myself into thinking that you might feel the same way. I look at your gestures of friendship, and although I secretly fantasize at what they might mean, I try not give in to my cursh. I think that you are just a nice guy and I'm just part of group that's trying to evolve into a community of support and friendship in art.

After all, you've never really come out and done anything to make me feel special. But then, I've never made you feel special and I know I never will. At least, not without a strong sign of encouragement from you. And even then, I don't know if I want you to know how much you make me feel. I don't ever want anyone to know how much I lose my sense of control around you, least of all you. I don't know if I could be that vulnerable again with someone. I don't know if I could tear the hardened scabs of hurt that have formed over my heart. I don't know if I want my heart ripped to shreds again. I mean, I know I would survive such a rending, even from you, but I'm afraid that I would hurt for a long time, maybe even forever.

My best friend keeps telling me that I take you and my crush all too seriously, that you could merely be a conduit to me meeting my one true love and that if we were to ever get together, you'd be at least a blast to date.

But I want you to be more than a blast. I want you to be a joy that is a part of my life for the rest of my life. And contrary to what I've always believed, if I can't have you as the love of my life, I don't want you in my life at all. That would be way too painful.

And so I have no choice but to take this crush one day at a time. I thought I was over you last week, I really did. But this morning, you were in my thoughts and it made me so deliriously happy to think of you, that I got slammed head first back into crush mode. The joy you bring to my heart is equal to the joy I'm having thinking about my wingie thingies. And I can't ignore this most heavenly of gifts. That one single person brings such happiness and joy to me is like a miracle. And isn't bringing love and joy what were all divinely meant to bring to each other?

So, it's definitely a Mercury Retrograde because I'm sitting in my office waiting till I can go pick up my car. The car guy said I could have my car betwween 5:30 and 8 pm and I just thought he was saying that to cover his ass. But no, I call him at 5 pm and he says my car will be ready at 8 pm. The car people didn't even work on my car all day. What if they find something seriously wrong with it its 20K well baby care appointment? If they do, they only have three hours to work on it. God, how unorganized. I tried not to get mad though because there was just obviously some huge old miscommunication, but still damn!

I was supposed to see my friend in her stage reading at the Exit Theatre. It was going to be her and female who's who in the SF Bay Area theatre world. Like any chick who's got any kind of game in the world of theatre is in this reading. And here I am typing a post in blogger in my office.

And to add insult to injury, it looks like it's going to rain while I'm out waiting for the bus. God, life is just so unfair sometimes.

I wished I brought my little laptop to work. I could have have gone to the mall and hung out and worked on my Shopping Center Carnival story.

This stupid mercury retrograde. And it's about to get even worse.

There's supposed to be some historic Saturn Pluto opposition on May 26. "Strict Saturn in Gemini opposing transformative Pluto in Sagittarius has been in effect since the end of last July. This is an aspect of extreme structural realignment which occurs about every 35 years. The last time it occurred was in 1965-66, the time before that in 1931. Those were both times of extreme social change. And here we are again." - This is from a website I found.

The word out on the all the conspiracy websites is something is supposed to happen on May 26. Is that why they keep talking about future terrorists attacks on the news? Some people have said that if there is an attack, it will be on Memorial Day and that an attack like that will send the stock market crashing with the Nasdaq going down to 1400 level. The markets don't stay down and will come back up, but I just don't think we can take another attack. Maybe the people in Israel are used to it, but not us. Some people also say that the next attack will happen to Washington DC. Is that why Cheney can never been seen? God, I have friends that live there. This sounds terrible, but hopefully the terrorist attack, if there is any, is nothing more than a suicide bomber and not a 9/11 thing.

But who knows? Are they warning us to prepare us? Or are they really credible threats out there? And I'm like DAMN! We can send a man to the moon but we can't round up terrorsts? We can build a space station but we can't guard our country against crazy extremists who just want to blow themselves and others up.

The world is going crazy and I feel afraid and it's not like I don't know why.