The anxiety has stemmed from unbloggable work/finance worries and a health scare concerning my mom. The work/finance worries are mostly unfounded, or too soon to worry about, really. The health scare is a very real thing we may have to deal with. Mom goes in for more tests on Wednesday. We’ll know more then. I think. Until then I tell myself that I cannot panic because I don’t know what I’m panicking about.

It seems this minor storm of inner-turmoil has me longing longing longing for the olden days. I’ve watched two River Phoenix movies in the past week (Dogfight and Stand By Me, which has caused me to think that River might have been my first non-Fonzie related moviestar crush. I loved C. Thomas Howell and Matt Dillon, but that was mostly because of The Outsiders and they were Fonziesque. I really loved Fonzie). Those old movies are comforting somehow, reminding me of a time when I didn’t have to worry about mortgages or parental lifespans.

So you can imagine my utter surprise and delight, while trolling through the channels this evening looking for something suitably numbing, in discovering that Discovery Kids has transformed into something called The Hub, or as I would call it, fucking awesome.

My remote couldn’t move fast enough to tune into an episode of Family Ties followed by The Wonder Years and then a serving of Doogie Howser, M.D. like a cherry on top of a 1987 sundae. I love when the universe hands you exactly what you needed exactly when you need it.

Also, I might not ever watch a modern TV show again.

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And let’s just say for argument’s sake that you cannot cut this person (or people) out of your life because you share a gene pool or they pay you money or you have a long personal history. So you have these people in your life and they are never pleased. Something is always wrong or not quite right, but out of the kindness of his or her heart they will accept this subparness.

How do you cope with that? How do you deflect their little bits of snark and not let it weave itself into your brain tying your guts into knots and making you think “why do I suck so much?”

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So instead of cryptoblogging I have not been writing at all. Which sucks. But when you can’t talk about what’s on your mind you’re left with talking about Bret Michaels and how you kind of feel like the entire world has jumped on your bandwagon because you loved him way before he had a stroke (but not so long before he drove a Whore Bus).

Or you talk about the weather and how totally asstastic it was today. So asstastic that it took all my energy to remain upright in front of the fan because I refuse to turn on the AC before Memorial day.

Or you talk about signing up for the Graphic Novel & Comicbooks conference at The Loft ani d how Max, your 11-year-old nephew, is going to attend too.

Or you talk about how you threw yourself into work and books to avoid thinking.

See? Isn’t it annoying as hell? Maybe this will break the dam and l’ll have other things to write about, like how I got a cute haircut to see my College buddies and they stood me up because after all this time they’re still just a bunch of Stupid Boys.

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I am on my knees thanking the heavens and the Earth that the breakthrough finally came. I’ve been stuck for way longer than I care to admit and it’s made me quite dreadful — crabby, irrational, angry, like having PMS for the last month and a half. It’s really been bad and I can see why these kinds of blocks can drive artists to quit passing the open window. You get to a point where you’re sure you will never create anything again, at least anything that doesn’t suck ass. The inside of my head has not been pretty, but now it’s totally rainbows and Care Bears.

I’m so giddy that I want to kiss everyone and smile, rather than punch them in the neck like I usually want to do. Now that I’ve made my breakthrough, and have been creatively unleashed, I’m hoping to be able to write something remotely interesting again.

*Holy shit did I just quote a fucking Doors’ song? I hate the Doors and, well, I’m surprised because really all I can seem to sing lately is “Devil Raised a Good Boy.”

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Also, it is forcing me to decide exactly what it is that I want to do to cobble together a living. I’m calling it Plan B since Plan A, to marry a sugar daddy in August, has totally fallen through.

I’m excited about life at the moment. It’s one of those weeks where I am so full up with my own potential that I am about to burst.

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