I have not been updating my blog lately because I’ve been busy. It’s a good busy. But it doesn’t leave much time for profound thoughts or whimsical observances. I have to prioritize, you know? Making money, paying taxes, eating, sleeping, memorizing lines. These things all take priority over … this. That reminds me: I Hate Hamlet is coming up soon. Get yer tickets now! Or later. Just come see the show. It will be fun. Also, I’m going to be tapping my little heart out in Thoroughly Modern Millie soon thereafter.

It’s thundersnowing. Right now. In Lakewood. No, I’m not making this up. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thundersnow It started with a very light snowfall. Then there was an incredibly bright flash of light that lit up the sky, like someone standing outside my window with a camera flash. Then about 5 seconds later, a huge, KA-BOOOM! It happened a few more times and it’s now more like sleet. But not really. I think the correct precipitation is “snow pellets.” So I guess it should be called thundersnowpelleting instead. 21:36 - Now the Lakewood Police are reporting they can’t get up the hills because it’s “like an ice rink” out there.

It is not what we say but how we behave that defines us in the eyes of others. At some point talk must become action. When what we say does not reflect what we do, and vice versa, we cannot ever hope to foster the growth of trusting and mature adult relationships. My word is my bond. I do not break it lightly. In matters of importance I make no promises I intend not to keep. Feeling-sparing fibs may feel better in the moment, but honesty is always best for long-term gain.

I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever meet the right woman for me. How hard is it to find a beautiful, intelligent, honest, and reliable woman who doesn’t act like a little kid? I’m the male equivalent of all those things, so I expect what I have to offer in return. I haven’t dated much so rejection hurts. Even if I had dated a lot, rejection still hurts. Being alone hurts. There’s this pain, this hole in the middle of my chest. Sometimes I can patch it up with work and distractions, other times I’m so sad that I cry myself to sleep: just out of the pain of always having been alone.