An Update on My Life, in List Form

Note: for the record, the reason I never update this blog is that my friend Katherine is way funnier than me and routinely publishes my antics on the World Wide Web via her own (way funnier) blog.

• About five days after my last post, I swung back into the dramatic, yet impossible romance. About a month ago, I swung back out. In the interim, we went to Iceland! It was intense and otherworldly, and you should see the pictures. Really.
  

• I continue to date men who wore born in the 80's, and this is a pattern that disturbs me. Text-flirting appears to be the primary Gen Y Courtship Strategy, and I really prefer a wittily composed email. What can I say? Good grammar makes me swoon. Excessive use of "LOL" does not. Even if you are a really cute architect.

• Despite cutting back to once-a-week running and ditching the gym altogether, my ass has been shrinking. While I thought this would make me less popular with black men, it turns out they like curly hair too.
  

• My mom joined Facebook.
  

• The week-long season we call "spring" came and went, and the Season of Profuse Sweating has begun. This year I broke down and bought clinical strength deodorant, which I'm sure is giving me breast cancer, not to mention ruining my white shirts with disturbing, fluorescent stains. But my pits? They're bone dry. I can't wait until they make an all-over body version.

• I finally got a therapist, and it's the Best. Money. I've. Ever. Spent. I can't believe I didn't get one years ago! There is something so appealing to my Inner Narcissist about having a weekly appointment where all I do is talk about Me, Myself and I.

• I narrowly avoided getting swine flu, though it meant canceling a much-needed trip to Mexico.
  

• Even though all signs have been directing me toward homeownership, I officially decided to continue my life as a renter for the foreseeable future. It was a tough decision, but ultimately I had to admit to myself that it is not a responsibility I want to take on as a single woman. Yes, yes, my Inner Feminist is pissed about it, but who did she think was going to provide the flat screen TV and fix things when they broke? Me? I think not.

• This summer I have more baby showers than weddings. This terrifies me.
  

• For the first time since moving to DC, I intend to take part in the summer tradition of spending weekends at Rehoboth Beach. Rehoboth is like the Hamptons only less glamorous and more gay (there's a reason they call it "Rehomo"). Still, I'd much rather fight the gays for a slice of sand than queue up and throw elbows with them outside the ghetto public pool in Foggy Bottom in order to get a lounge chair.
  

Summer? Is going to be fun.