Sharing

So today I'm feeling totally depressed.

A disclosure which necessarily begs the question: what is the role of the blog in conveying the details of one's life? Is the blog a mechanism for sharing primarily the "big chunks" of life, the stories, the breaking news, the narrative-weaving events? Or is it simply a virtual diary into which is thrown everything from I'm Getting Married to I Got Fag-Bashed to I Feel Sad?

At any rate, I do, indeed, feel sad. I might chalk this up to several sources:

1. World hunger.

2. The weather, which continues to feel much like I would imagine a wet electric blanket set to HIGH and wrapped around one's head whilst sitting in a sweat lodge might feel, minus the electric shock but with every bit as much of the resigned gloom.

3. The after-effects of two consecutive nights of relative over-imbibement this past weekend, when I have lately become accustomed to only one night of imbibement-within-reason. The first night was Mama-sized Mango margaritas at our local gay Mexican place, Arriba!Arriba!, followed by Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (3.5 stars). The second night was dangerously self-poured drinks at our friends M&R's place, followed by beers on the outdoor patio at Metropolitan in Williamsburg. Nothing wild either night, but...I'm not the man I used to be.

4. The fact that the innkeeper at The Other Inn still hasn't called or written to tell us we can use her rooms and/or tavern, which puts a serious chokehold on my ability to needlessly overplan our guest accomodations, and which leaves my poor little namecards slowly suffocating in their Ziplock tomb praying for the day when there is enough Secure Knowledge About Accomodations to safely release them onto their yet-to-be-built posterboard homes.

5. The everpresent threat of homeland terror, mitigated only minimally by the assumption that they will be least likely to bomb Bronx-bound trains above 42nd Street, such as my own.

6. The feeling that Nobody Needs Me at work today.

I also had a dream last night that I was gift-wrapping my dog - - my actual dog, not my dream dog, or technically my former actual dog, whose death when I was in highschool affected me deeply but also led to a prize-winning essay that was equal parts Me, Toni Morrison and James Joyce - - slightly affected and self-important, but undeniably heartfelt.

Anyways, I had a dream where I was wrapping him in giftwrap - - not like one would wrap a present, just circling the tube of wrapping paper around and around and around him, like Christmas tree lights. So maybe that's where my depression is coming from, because a) I miss him and rarely dream about him, b) when I do dream about him, it's never very interactive, just things like gift-wrapping him or walking him down the street, which leaves me with a slightly hollow feeling, and c) I have no idea what it's supposed to mean. Dog:giftwrap as impending wedding:anxiety? Or life:personal control? Or three slices of pepperoni pizza at 9:30pm last night:my brain?