I've been trying to focus all day long, but the real problem is that it looks like night 24-7 and my body gets bored and goes to sleep whenever, where ever and I am getting nothing done.

I like that most of the time I start a blog and then get sidetracked by something shiny and come back to it later and have to be like OH, OK. HERE IS WHERE I PICK UP THE PIECES FROM MY LAST SCHIZOPHRENIC THOUGHT. I guess this means I will take some pills and then free write and read it tomorrow and question if I even wrote whatever was typed. That is always an interesting feeling.

Periodically, someone will find me online and tell me they used to read my old blog, or my reviews and then copy and paste a short paragraph to me. Usually, I am like, that is pretty good, did you write it? God, I can only wonder what their reaction is via the waves of the internet super highway, but I bet it is sort of like meeting Laird Hamilton and then watching him wipe out immediately. The thing is, when I blink, I usually forget exactly how I wrote something, so when it's sent to me later on, or if I am rereading it, I have to be like DID THE EDITORS REWRITE IT? I COULDN'T ACTUALLY COME UP WITH SOMETHING LIKE THAT. DID I COME UP WITH THAT? Then I check the original copy and am like HOLY SHIT, I WROTE THAT. Then I give myself tons of pats on the back and whatever else.

Earlier, I watched Eastern Promises. It's weird to watch a film that I am probably not going to get paid to talk about. Especially when the only reason I wanted to see it was VIGGO MORTENSEN NAKED FIGHT SCENE. I guess there really isn't a couth way to explain that the movie was pretty alright and mostly predictable but then Viggo has a mega naked fight that is actually sort of gay, but really sort of hot. Especially when the reviews are supposed to be pg-13. I don't think I was made to be pg-13 because most of the time I have trouble trying to be rated-R. Do I think Viggo will steal the award for best actor in a motion picture from Daniel Day Lewis in There Will Be Blood, not at all, but his performance is stellar regardless and now I want to have sex with him using a Southern accent as well as a Russian one. Creepily, he lives around the way from me on developed horse property (we never took the horse buying plunge), and he is one of the few famous people I would probably get flustered over and secretly hope to run away with. On a white horse. Into the sunset. At the end of the world. As a tsunami wipes out Malibu. Whatever.

You know what I'm really in the market for is a new female friend in the LA area. I was thinking about it today since I got rid of all mine by the end of last year. It would be sort of cool if this friend could get it together and be willing to go long distance running, be able to talk about books and painting, pay her own way, and from time-to-time drink grown men into acoma. It'd be double as sweet if she had other friends and didn't expect me to come and hangout on the daily since I hate leaving the house. You know what, these are basically my requirements for a boyfriend--so if you fit in either category drop me a line because I do a great job of screening people and would like to have the opportunity to reject you.