It's the question that has been on the minds of at least two people: Where has Toby been?
Now, hopefully with this entry, I'm going to dispel a few myths, a few rumors. Let us begin.
1. I have not been injured, murdered, or taken hostage by the Gentleman Friend. All is well on the relationship front - although he did accuse me of being immature when I "threatened" (Is it a threat when no one cares?) to take down my blog and return to a perceived level of privacy not previously enjoyed since early 2001. I don't feel this would be so much immature as groundless and shortsighted.
2. I have not been dooced. I did, however, give my two weeks notice and will soon be working elsewhere. I don't really talk about my job on this blog - and, no, there is no "other" blog - so I will leave it at that.
3. I have not passed away from body dysmorphia. Not yet, at least.
Those are the things I haven't done. These are the things I have done.
1. I have watched a lot of TV - namely, Boy Meets World, 7th Heaven, and anything on the Discovery Health Channel regarding often fatal (and always captivating) diseases. Even my Tivo has lost respect for me.
2. I have been sort of going to the gym and kind of sticking to my 4,000-calorie-a-day diet. Consequently, my weight is about as erratic as my self-image, hovering somewhere between 155 and 160 pounds. This is a source of much frustration for me. At this point, I'm ashamed not of my body but of my inability to meet personal goals.
3. I went boating yesterday with my friends. The Gentleman Friend knows how to kneeboard and, really, it was the sexiest thing I've seen in years.
I would now like to address the reasons for my month-long absence.
1. I didn't have anything to write about. Or, perhaps more accurately, I didn't have anything I felt like writing about. Or maybe I just didn't feel like writing. Probably that.
2. I got nervous. It's weird to have friends, coworkers and strangers read your blog. To be honest, this is more of an excuse than a reason for not blogging, but it's something I think about.
3. I woke up one day and realized that I am not Toby. I'm not a bitch, I don't act like I'm smarter than everyone else, and I don't have a preoccupation with alcohol as would be identified by the CAGE questionnaire. This is a problem because I can't even go to a party without having already been judged by a third of the people there. Maybe this is partly imagined, but my gut tells me otherwise.
Lastly, allow me to share some of the ways I see my blog evolving over time, beginning now.
1. I might write about my day, LiveJournal style. For instance: Today I woke up at 10 a.m. in the Gentleman Friend's bed, took a shower only because he told me to do so, and then had him drive me home. I borrowed the Shank's car and drove to Safeway, where, to my great pleasure, Diet Coke with Splenda was on sale (4 for $11!). Cyber Agatha and I watched an episode of Boy Meets World and ate sorbet made of red wine. I mean, who wouldn't want to read about this shit?
2. Body dysmorphia and my quixotic quest for physical perfection will be increasingly documented. It's pretty much all I think about these days, which is both bogus and sad, as Wayne would say.
3. Other possible topics: my landlady, reality television, cystic acne. Blacklisted literary elements: irony (verbal), tone (smug), and conflict (blog wars).
We all need something to be proud of, and for me, this blog is it, baby. Again, this is both bogus and sad. But the world needs me and I need you, so let's carry on and make it WORK. (Yeah, I forgot to mention that my blog will remain 100 percent hate-crimingly gay.)
Yesterday was my last day at work. My coworkers threw a little farewell get-together late in the day, with cake and a card. It was like something my parents would organize for my birthday, only less awkward. When I cut the first piece of cake, my boss said, "Wow, that's a big one." I wanted someone to chime in with "That's what she said!" but tragically the moment came and went.