Dear Blog World,

I feel that I owe you an explanation for my reticence of late. I'm not dissing by throwing up the red herring of a John Waters sighting, I just don't know what to say for myself. And for as much as I believe in the "go hard or go home" credo, sometimes I am just non-confrontational. I know you are saying "but you don't owe me anything, Katie Krupnik." You are being brave. You sense there is something more going on, but you don't want to press me. We're not that deep. You're trying not to overstep a boundary. Okay, so there is something I'm not telling you. But I am so telling you, if you're listening...

I wrote the scot late last week (he'd been out of town). No word, and that's okay. We are not that deep. Saw Mr. Close Encounters last night. I still don't know what I'm going to do about that boy. He scares me. I want to put him in a box, but he won't go in one. So it makes me want to go into one. But now I can't. I'm too open for my own good.

I met up with C for dinner tonight at my beloved One World. We shared a bottle of South African red. It had a screw top. We've decided that the cork is what makes the opening worth it.
Blog world, holla if you hear me...