melodramatic musings, part II.*

enter friday night.

it was rainy, i was exhausted and i was running around in heels all day. finally getting everything i needed for the bachelorette party in my car, i was on my way home.

i wanted so badly to call someone to come help me with the three grocery bags and two incredibly heavy boxes from the liquor store. (yeah, it was definitely the first time i've needed to drive up to the liquor store and have the owner carry the boxes to my car.)

my roommate was gone. and there was no boyfriend on speed dial.

i'm an incredibly independent person (who obviously has a flair for the dramatic), but i found myself breaking down in tears in my car. and one thought kept running through my head. (keep in mind this was after a very long day.)

"i'm sick of doing this alone."

sick of dating only to have it not work out. sick of attending weddings alone (or worse yet, getting a wedding invite at 26 years of age with no guest option... why bother, it's not like i'm in a serious relationship, right?), sick of not having anyone to call and come help me with the heavy boxes.

so i carried them through the rain and into my apartment alone. (and in heels.) and then i indulged myself with tears and ben harper... until my roommate came home and forced happier music upon me. (thank goodness for girlfriends.)

sad music or not, it doesn't change that thought in my mind. i've been doing this alone for what feels like a very long time. i just want someone to adore me, someone to adore. someone to force my guard down, take care of me a little bit and maybe try and soften this incredibly hard edge i seemed to have acquired over the years.

*this is all something a fabulously single, independent DIY feminist should never say, but i don't really give a f*ck. everyone gets lonely from time to time and there is no shame in it, at least not for me.

what's going on?

life, as it usually does in summer, has taken a busy turn for me.

there is, of course, the softball team i've been guilted into (but secretly enjoy being a part of) for the last four years. i'm still a right field rockstar and i've found that last year's spark is still as cute as ever. (but after dating him, i think i'll keep him as eye candy.)

i've recently joined the events committee of the liz logelin foundation, which i'm very excited to be a part of. look for more information coming soon...

work is crazy and fun as ever. (who knew i'd ever use the word "fun" to describe working at a bank??) i'm throwing a bridal shower and bachelorette party for a dear friend this weekend and likely hosting impromptu gay pride parties with my roommate the next, i can't get enough of the sun and i've become addicted to the twilight series, which means the only man in my life right now (besides leo) is robert pattinson. yes, it's true. hello, my name is brooke and i'm a robert pattinson addict.

life is good.

the crazies.

i live downtown minneapolis, work downtown st. paul, and take the bus in between. therefore, i see a lot of crazy sh*t.

highlights from the past month:
* the clown on stilts playing the accordian walking down the sidewalk in my neighborhood
* the man with a braided rat tail down to his butt walking in the skyway
* the man sitting next to me on the bus with a background picture of a dead clown in a casket on his laptop (which wasn't so much a "highlight" as it was "completely terrifying")
* the (normal-looking) businessman who shared the elevator with me on the way up to the gym.... and stared at me while breathing heavily the entire five floors up
* the old man dressed as a woman who likes to talk to anyone within hearing range about sarah palin like she's a family member (i'm blessed to be able to ride the bus with this one on a frequent basis... thank goodness for ipods)

i love this little city i live in.

the problem with chick flicks.

this weekend was chick flick-fest. the lineup?

he's just not that into you
definitely, maybe
because i said so
in her shoes

which led to a call and a text to a long-time "potential"and a text to an ex. (the text to the ex isn't all that uncommon, since we still sporadically communicate, but any communication sent at 11pm on saturday night is bound to create some suspicion.)

don't get me wrong, i love a good chick flick, but i think next weekend's events will include a little more time in the three-dimensional world.