In It's Singular Form It Lacks Enthusiasm

Last night I saw the Pistons fall to the Cavs and bid farewell to their chances at a 2007 Championship. All I have to say is, they didn't deserve it with the way they played so I can't be too upset. The Cavs worked hard, James worked is usual workhorse not-human load and they won. End of story.

Tonight I am sitting here wondering what I'm going to do on the nights that I used to go to the Good Dog, drink with good friends and yell at a television screen. Have I really gotten that one dimensional in the last two months?
I know that I have been avoiding time alone. Part of this is merely enjoying the summer and pushing forward in the continuation of what Beth and I refer to as "Summer Fun Time." Part of it is immaturity. I no longer feel like dealing with the reality of life, the deep stuff that's been the thrust of my life up to this point in the game.
I just want to relax and enjoy but when the rain starts to fall and your best friend is occupied with a possible love interest the air feels heavy with more than just dampness. The loneliness kicks in as I flip through my phonebook and come up empty handed. No one I know well enough to just call up and have sit at the house and watch a movie. My arsenol of close friends is limited. That's not to say it's a bad thing but on nights like tonight when all I want to do is relax and I can't fathom doing it alone, I get worried. Why can't I do this alone? A few minutes into the movie and I am flipping through the phonebook again. Nothing.

The pang of singlehood stabs you in the ribs when you least expect it. When your friends are occupied and your night is not.

Some nights this city feels too small. Tonight, it feels as large and silent as the Sahara Desert. If I were in Michigan I'd hop in my truck and drive to the lake, but how's a girl to escape when she has no means of getting to a destination she still doesn't know?