yesterday was a FANTASTIC day.
i biked to work in the morning, again, in perfect spring weather.
i worked with the girls for a while, catching up on everything. i offered to go to the bank with all seven deposits, since i had my bike and needed to go to the post office anyway.
i'd made the cookies the night before, and dropped a few in the mail to a couple people in florida. i had made some crafts for nina's kids maybe three weeks ago, and promised to mail them tomorrow every day since. it felt so great to finally get them off my hands. and a couple other things, too.
and brownies' birthday is coming up soon, so i dropped a little something in the mail for her as well. i'm so awful with pre-planning birthday mailings, so i am kindof impressed that i used my brain and figured that one out.
and i mailed my mom's mothers day card, because i won't get to see her after all. i wrote in her card, trying not to get all sentimental, knowing that she will cry on the other end of the line, as hard reading my card as i cry when i read hers.
i biked back to work, trying not to look for joey on the path. but i did a couple times. then focused on looking down, to break a bad old habit of looking for the person i want to see.
work was nearly over by the time i got back, but i knew that trying to work from home yesterday would have resulted in too many beers and cigarettes, and not nearly enough work. so i stayed after close, and didn't go home until i had finished everything for end of month, which was well ahead of schedule and something that felt fantastic to accomplish.
and i biked home.
and then it was time to turn right back around on my bike and head in the direction of alice.
because my other friend lauren was only in town for one more day, i'd double booked myself. i thought i'd see lauren first, for happy hour in the city around 5. and that i'd hang with alice second. but alice ended up being ready at 330, so i went to her first, and lauren ended up needing some wind down time and wanted to meet up at 7 instead, so it worked out almost perfectly.
i'd already biked about 45 minutes to that point, and left for the bar where alice was hanging out. and i got two thirds of the way there, and heard the tell tale 'pfft'.
and said aloud, 'oh. no no nonono...'
i got off my bike, and looked for the source of the sound. a roofing nail was sticking halfway out of my tire. and it was hitting both my rim and my fender, making a lot of racket before i was able to bail off my bike.
poor breezy. and like a retarded stab wound victim, i yanked the nail out of the tire. and she bled out. well, passed gas. i mean...
so i told alice i had a flat and was on foot, would be there in about 15. and tried to think about where to get it fixed so that i could still make it to lauren by 7. she'd decided against center city, and for west phila, so i had a 50 block trip instead of a 5 that could have been walked.
you know, it's fine. miss breezy has only had ONE flat tire in the nearly three years i've owned her. and it was in the fall. so two flats in three years is totally okay by me. i just hated being between places, with no alternative way to get there. and alice said we'd get a new tube, so i tried to not be angry about it.
i got to the bar, and seeing alice, and catching up with alice, was so fantastic. i honestly can't remember the last time i actually saw her. it was right after christmas, i guess. it's been too long. but as we always do, we pick up where we leave off. and so much always happens between the times we see each other that it's like a race to talk the fastest so everything gets squeezed in.
and we did a bangup job. i had two beers, and had a nice little afternoon buzz going by the time we decided to leave, in an effort for alice to teach me how to fix my own flat (because i am utterly clueless). but when we got to the bike shop, i just handed over my bike for the dude to fix the tire. my time with alice was running out, and it was more fun to smoke outside while he worked than to take like eight times as long and get filthy and maybe not be able to fix it.
and then we were off to her place, to hang out for a little bit longer. and then i had to leave.
being with alice was really good for me, for a few reasons. i got to tell her the difference between friends that you hang out with at a bar, and then real friends. i got to tell her that i love her and care about her and that i'm there for her. because we don't usually talk like that so often, and also tend to flake on hanging out more often than not, i guess i wanted to let her know that i'm around if she needs a friend. we had a lot of fun, and i'm hoping that there's much less time between the time we waited to hang out the next time around.
so i left alice's and biked all the way west, back across the bridge, the same way i go to work in the morning. and i was taking my time for the second half of the ride, to cool down. i need to figure out how many miles i biked yesterday. going so far makes me want to track it...
and i got to that bar about fifteen minutes late. i'd allowed 30 to ride there, and i guess it took 45. sigh.
i walked in, expected lauren to be with at least three other people, maybe at a table with like eight other people. and i walked in and she was coming toward me with arms outstretched. such a wonderful welcome.
lauren is one of the coolest, sweetest, smartest, and most determined people i have ever met. what's funny is that is the same age as aubree, with so many similarities between the two of them that she was like my stand in little sister when she lived here and worked with me.
lauren and her girlfriend got this crazy idea last summer to move to austin from philadelphia. via BICYCLES. it took two months. and they fucking DID IT!
all of this after lauren had a very close call a couple years ago. she was biking here, in the city, and got hit by a guy who turned left in front of her. she was knocked unconscious, and woke up in the hospital with no front teeth and her jaw wired shut. for six weeks. she really almost died. it was horrible. and the reason she's here this week is to try to recoup the money from the jackass who hit her. well, really, his insurance company. but whatever.
so she flies out tomorrow, and this was my chance to see her. and she was there alone, waiting for me.
we had almost two hours of talking catching up to do. it was fantastic. her life in austin is so exciting. the first half was her telling me about the lawsuit. we both said that legal proceedings are super fascinating, and we both feel that we missed our calling to be lawyers in this life.
she was so wound up, because of the douchebaggery of the idiot who hit her, and i guess in the end, i have faith that the jury will see that he has four different stories and four different explanations.
the bottom line is, even if he had the arrow, he should have yielded to her. i can't imagine her not winning the case. my fingers are crossed, regardless.
so after all that catching up on life and boys (for me) and ever and the house, and on life and her girlfriend and her job and her new life in texas, i was heading home. i'd had two littler beers with her there. and ate a huge dinner - i cleared my plate. again. i was feeling a little silly, but not too silly to bike. and i don't like riding at night, not at all, but had no choice because it was already after 830.
because i had to wake up for suck store at 545 this morning, i already was leaving 30 minutes after i'd wanted to. but just like alice, i didn't want to leave when i did. i felt like i could have spent hours more there talking with each of them.
but lauren headed back to her group of old roommates, and i jumped on breezy, and headed home.
i got about ten blocks, and then hit a really steep downhill that leads to an old bridge. i had basically gone the wrong way. and instead of backtracking two blocks and biking away from the direction of my house, to the bridge i always take (new safe and clean), i continued the downhill route, to the old scary dirty bridge, that is a more direct route to the house.
and just as i was passing the store that i work at with pam and kim, something felt very wrong.
i was bouncing too much. the ride wasn't smooth. and because of the hill i was on, slowing down was quite a thing to try to do. but i did, at the bottom of the hill. and bailed off my bike to see what was going on.
and fuck me sideways, i had another flat.
i could NOT believe it.
i couldn't believe it, because i had paid to fix it only four hours before. i couldn't believe that i could get two flats in one day. i couldn't believe it because i had put myself in a much more precarious situation by going the alternative route. i couldn't believe it, because i had JUST started biking home, i was nowhere near being close to home. i couldn't believe it, because i had to wake up stupid early, and was already getting home later than i wanted to.
if i still lived in my apartment, i would have been home in about 20 minutes from there, on foot. but because i live at the house now, i thought it would take 45 from there. it took just over an hour.
nina talked to me for over half an hour, while i walked my bike through some pretty sketch sections of south phila. and i saw and attempted to hail two cabs. neither stopped for me. probably because i was in sketch sections of south phila. it was fucked. and there was no bus to be seen.
it was just so typical. and once i got to the north end of my street, and started walking south about 20 blocks to my house, all i could think about was the walk of shame home post-joey. which is NOT what i wanted to be thinking about in that state of mine. and how, just like that morning, i finally crossed paths with a cab that would have picked me up. and that i was three blocks from my house when that happened. why fucking bother?
by the time i got home, i had a blister on the top of my foot that had rubbed itself so much it popped. and i got to my stoop and sat down to finish my last cigarette of the night.
despite an amazing night out with two super awesome friends, and despite having a phone full of people i could have called, but none of which have cars to throw my bike in the trunk of, i felt completely alone. and thanks to the hormones coursing my body, i felt completely sorry for myself. and in thinking about who would be the person to come and get me before this week, and before the last year. i thought about kit and i thought about ever.
i walked home from kit's once, when ever was home and too lazy to come and get me. i was so mad i didn't speak to him for the rest of the night. i hadn't seen a cab then, either, and because he had gotten stoned and started eating ice cream and watching the office, he couldn't pry himself off the couch to come and get me. that night it was much later, about 11 or midnight, walking through the same shitty neighborhood.
it just felt really pathetic. that i didn't have a single person to call who was close enough to me, with a car. and i walked and thought about matthew. how, if he (or anyone else for that matter) was my boyfriend, i'd have an instant go-to for a hero. he (whoever 'he' is) would be my hero, and drop everything to come and save me.
and then realized, 'ohhhhh.... riiiiiight... this is why having a tiny roster of two fuck buddies is less desirable than having a committed boyfriend-style relationship.'
and then thought about that for a while.
i don't know. it was this kitchen sink of pity party thing. for over an hour, while i walked home.
my day had been mostly awesome. and then super awesome. and then the fucking WORST.
but i made it home. and right after i did, i got into bed. and it started pouring rain. and i had to laugh, because, wouldn't it have just been perfect if the bottom fell out when i was almost home? can't you just see me, pushing my flat tired bicycle in the rain, dripping wet and freezing cold? it would have been poetic. i'm really grateful that didn't happen.
and i got into bed, sweaty and sad, worn out. and i had a decent thirty second cryfest. and passed out.
i should feel great today. i was so beat that i fell asleep once i had quieted myself down a little. i was asleep just after 11, which i can't say for any one night in the last three weeks, to the best of my knowledge.
but i was so congested this morning, i couldn't even do my whole neti pot, because it wouldn't flow. after stopping for the third time, i just gave up. and i took one of my medicines, the 12 hour one that i missed last night. but i couldn't take my steroid nose spray or the other 24 hour medicine because it was 645 am, and i had to wait two more hours to take it. and i guess i forgot it on my bed in my rush out this morning, because it didn't come to work with me. and now i'm stuck for the next three hours without a way to breathe easier and feel better.
sigh. again.
but don't worry, friends. i'm not feeling sorry for myself anymore. last night felt like the loneliest saddest shit to go through. but today when i woke up, i felt totally different about it. it's no one's fault but my own that i didn't have someone to come and get me. it's no one's fault but my own that i don't know how to fix my own tire, or carry a spare in my bag. i know a lot of people who do. and it's no one's fault but my own that i chose to bike between happy hours. it's no one's fault but my own that i continuously choose to lead a solitary existence, where i rely on myself for the most part - i've become a commitment-phobe. i have friends, but i try not to lean on them too much. and most of the time, i'm too stubborn and proud to ask for help when i really need it.
and most of the time, being self reliant works for me. not asking favors works for me. but last night, it backfired. i'm just glad that i made it home safely, and without incident, mostly.
and this weekend, i'll get my bike fixed properly, by my trusted shop. with aubree in tow.
one. more. day. i'm so excited. i think she's starting to get excited, too. but she has left a lot to the last minute (that's how she rolls), and is also probably super stressed at the same time.
i've been thinking about trying to put something little together this weekend. like a meet n greet little tiny party at the house. but half the people i would invite couldn't make it anyway. i don't know. part of me wants to plan something. and part of me just wants to get people out somewhere so i don't have to clean before and after. and part of me wants to let her call all the shots, and not try to pull anything off right away.
i don't know what to do, or if i should even try. it's so super last minute, like kit's party idea, i don't think i should mess with it, because that stressed me out, trying to pull it together so quickly with no planning.
meh. i don't know.
we'll see... she might have an entirely different set of ideas about how to spend her weekend, and i don't want her to feel weird either.
maybe i'll wait a week. feel it out. see what happens. and plan ahead so everyone can come and say hi.
back to it, here at suck store... two hours until medicine and rest at home.
catfight. april 25th.
inspiration for the post title goes out to the two cats in the alley behind my deck, fighting loudly. it seems to be a theme...
i intended to write this in paper journal like i did the last fight (human, not cat) that i alluded to, but i didn't have the hand strength. a pen can't keep up with two hands on a keyboard. i had to get it out of my system, and while i don’t want to share it with the world, i feel okay with this, because as i said in that post, sometimes the hardest things to communicate are exactly what you should. i'll try not to be mean, because these are things you simply cannot take back. i'm thinking ahead, to a time when we can be some variation of friends. this is about the sixth incarnation of this post.
we've both recently posted love notes to each other on our blogs, which makes this even more ironic and shocking. i meant every word of mine. and i'm not going to say things here that will detract in any way from what she has done for me. i need to stick to the facts. no fancy charts and graphs, because i'm blogger retarded. it'll look more like a laundry list.
like her, i came to the same conclusion. something feels irretrievably broken to me in our friendship.
when we first became friends, i had no idea that she was seven years younger. from the outside, she had her shit super together, and was leap years ahead of anyone i know: career oriented, goal oriented, busting her ass in a phd program at an ivy league school. and she was at the end of a relationship of her own, as i was deciding to leave ever.
and she's right about something. i do document things well, but more than that, i remember the things that upset me the most, and i do have a little list of things i'm bitter with her about, but never wanted to say, because it would upset her. this, by the way, is exactly how i treated ever. i was afraid to upset him, and didn't communicate with him about things to avoid arguments.
i know that two of the worst days i had after leaving him, losing my shit in crisis mode, were two days that she wasn't available to me. and it wasn't her fault. i didn't blame her at all. one night she was bowling. i was supposed to go, and at the last minute couldn't. the other time she changed plans with me, i don't remember why. it's irrelevant.
what is important is that i was a fucking wreck, and i was totally alone. and it was the first clue that i had that i needed to pull myself together, because it's no one's job to do that; people have their own shit to worry about. it's not that i was hurt that she didn't drop everything to help me. because i didn't let on to her how bad things were in my head, if i remember correctly. but i guess i started to put distance between us, because she was my local best friend, but she's got a very busy life. and those two specific incidents made me realize that i shouldn't count on her to save me. that started the slight distancing. to that point, we'd been together pretty much every day, attached at the hip, and she was my lifeline.
to illustrate where i’m going with this:
on thanksgiving, she did the sweetest thing ever, and invited me to her family dinner. i would have been in a horrible place if she hadn't. it was my first big holiday alone, with no plans.
she was having a shit day. she was bent out of shape because her sister was being demanding, wanted to call the shots, and was lecturing her about smoking. she felt her sister was being rude and demeaning, but she ultimately gave me the silent treatment, because i didn't take her side.
i didn't take a side for two reasons. one, i was trying to mediate, not add fuel to a fire. i wanted a peaceful thanksgiving, and was trying to take the drama out of it. she hadn't had family around like that in a long time, and i wanted it to be happy. but also, i didn't take her side because i'd been sitting with everyone all morning and never heard a single thing that sounded like a catty/snippy/demeanin/disrespectful sentence come out of her sister's mouth.
i was punished for telling her that i hadn't heard anything that sounded out of line, and for recommending that we should just walk and smoke outside until she felt calmer and cooler and ready to go in and be civil. i said that i thought she was being overly sensitive. what happened, when i said that to her, in a very calm and caring way, is that she said to me, 'just fucking FORGET IT', and walked ahead of me.
i followed her in silence for a bit, fuming. and i know that i told her not to take it out on me, that i was just trying to help. it takes a lot to get me to yell at someone, even when they yell at me. and i know that i kept my voice even and calm because i didn't want her to freak out further, and especially not release that fire onto me.
i told her that, in a couple days, her sisters would all be gone. and then she could do whatever she wanted. but just try, TRY, to get along for two more days, especially thanksgiving day. and i offered to take her sister off her hands the next day, to give her a break so she could try to push the reset button on her bad attitude. and i did. we had a lot of fun, and left her alone. i don't know how much it did help, but i know it did at least a little. and i did that for her, despite being wickedly pissed that she was so nasty to me when i was trying to cool her down and help. and it took a couple days before i could talk to her about it, but i did.
and she honestly had no idea that i had even been upset, especially not enough to come back to it to talk about it at length after the situation had dissipated.
she pitches tantrums and makes scenes, and gets it out of her system, and then forgets that anything even happened at all. but i'm willing to guess that the people she directs things toward don't forget so quickly. i'm burnt on the complaining. the incessant problems. not everyone can have it all, all the time.
and the trip back from new jersey, where i fought the urge to drive myself back without her. the thing about that disaster was this...
i save her when she has panic attacks. i go overboard to accommodate her if she is in the middle of one, and go to great lengths to help her avoid having one. because i know how crippling it is, from having them myself. and because i know how, when someone is going through that, they can't see an end, and all they want is for the panic to end.
i will never know what the fuck happened that night. how i had the correct address in my phone (zip code and all). because it was in my history six different times, the same address. but i got to the first place that it told me to go, she was nowhere near me. and i didn't start to get nervous until i was driving from there to the next 'destination'. because at that point, i was where i was supposed to be, by the time i was supposed to be there.
i'd cut my trip to new york short, to get her when she was ready to be picked up. when i wasn't there waiting for her when she made her grand exit from the reception, she was PISSED. from her post, i think she believes that i did it on purpose. despite the fact that i told her i was doing my best, both during and after.
i had three separate panic attacks that night. each where i pulled off the road to re-route from my current location, shaking and tripping out. and i called her each time, because i didn't want to talk while i was lost and driving. i'd given up music and cigarettes, in an effort to concentrate, for over an hour.
twice when i called her, i was crying. begging her to please stop yelling at me, and to just tell me where to go. to ask someone if they knew where i was, by my landmarks, and how to get there from where i was. she wouldn't do it. she just yelled that she was plugging it into her phone and could see where to go from where i was, and how could i not fucking figure it out?
i offered to drive her to that goddamned wedding because she was fragile and upset and having a horrible life, just being dumped while having pneumonia, and the last place she wanted to be was at a wedding. and knowing that was her situation, if she had driven herself and gone alone like she was supposed to, one of two things would have happened: panic attacks, or not ending up at the wedding at all. THAT is why i took her. so she wouldn't have to worry or stress. i thought i had the money to swing it, and didn't ask for gas money or anything, because i just wanted to drive and think and process the things in my own head.
i offered to wait for her in the parking lot at the church, and drive her to the reception from there, but she refused. if she hadn’t, i'd have known precisely where to pick her up. instead of letting me do that for her, she said, ‘just go to new york. don't wait for me. i'll get a ride somehow.'
i sat in that parking lot on my phone, and probably left about ten minutes before she would have needed a ride, while i sorted out how to get to new york city from there. the entire thing could have been avoided. but it wasn't. all she had to tell me, at that point, is which exit she was off of.
after an hour and a half of me driving around, north and south of her, 30 miles at a time, she wouldn't tell me, wouldn't ask anyone. i finally said, angrily, 'you mean to tell me that you are at a wedding reception, leaving hours before anyone else, and there is literally not a single solitary person around that you can ask which exit you are off of? there is no one is working in the hotel?'
and she said, 'hang on.' with a grunt. and asked. and finally said, 'exit 30b.'
it took her five seconds to ask someone where she was. i had buzzed past that exit at least three times in the two hours i was trying to find her. all because she was commanding me to use my iphone, instead of just saying, 'hey, tea. take a deep breath. it's going to be okay. thank you for trying to find me. we're going to get home. just calm down. and get to this highway. and take exit 30b. and i'll be here.'
THAT was what i needed, and it should not have been that hard to do. she was so drunk and upset and self absorbed that all she could think about was how intolerable it was that she was cold (because she forgot her coat in my car), that she was outside for two hours (because she made a big scene and left after scarfing her dinner in under five minutes). because she couldn't take one more minute of being at a wedding, despite me telling her i'd text her when i was outside the hotel, and to stay at the reception until i got there. after telling her that i didn't mind waiting while she hung out. and that she was stuck in new jersey for two hours after she was ready to leave the wedding (um yeah, me, too), and that she couldn't take one more minute of wedding and waiting for me to come and get her.
once she said the exit, i was there in 20 minutes. it was right off ramp from the highway. i could not believe it. i pulled up into the hotel, and she slammed my car door. and gave me the silent treatment. she reeked of liquor and wouldn't tell me which direction to drive to get home. i was seeing red. i cannot remember the last time i was that angry.
after maybe 30 minutes, she told me about her epic bad night. and, yeah, i get it. if i was feeling that way, the last place i'd be is at a wedding. i would not have gone. and the last thing i'd be doing is treating my 'best friend' like a piece of shit, when only a couple hours before, leaving new york city, i'd said, 'i'll be there soon, and i'll put you back together. just let me get there, and you can cry in the car.'
there are not many qualities more unflattering than being an ingrate. i consistently go out of my way to tell and show people they are appreciated. i overtip. i thank the guy who drives my trolley, my bus, even my subway train. and when someone doesn't do the same for me when i'm behind the counter, i'll still help them and give excellent service. i'll still let people in front of me in traffic, even if they don't wave thanks. i'll still hold the door for someone, or let them cross in front of my car when i'm in a hurry.
but the extent of the opposite of that, that she went that night, was just inexcusable.
i was telling someone about what happened in jersey. and they asked why i was her friend at all - really couldn't understand how i could call her my local best friend. and i explained that when she's not being dramatic or mean, she's awesome. when you need something, she gives more than you need. up to, and including her last dime. and that i feel like i am on this planet to help her become a better person. a more well-rounded, confident person. that i'll repeatedly forgive her, and help her, because maybe it is what i can do to repay her for keeping me safe and sane when i left ever.
i think this would all be a lot less horrible to me if i hadn't just done something so extravagant a couple days before, completely honoring her, and going so far out of my way to make her feel super special. i didn't have to go so crazy with the food and the cake, the presents and the party favors. i mean, on my birthday, she made me an awesome cake from scratch from a family recipe, and sang to me in her apartment (i cheated and went bakery), and went with me to favorite bar. where she left, while i was finishing my last drink, to let a friend into her apartment. asking me to pay the tab, saying that she'd get me back later. we already had a running tab at the time with each other, and it got mixed in with that. but i paid for my own birthday drinks that night. and i wasn't exactly prepared to.
while i stumbled home (five doors down, luckily) alone and wickedly drunk, she got home to realize she'd forgotten to borrow my shop vac to inflate the air mattress she'd borrowed for her house guest that she'd left me to tend to.
while i puked my brains out, she banged on my door to get in. loudly enough at one am for landlord to see what the hell was going on. when i could finally stand, i passed it off to her, threw up some more, and passed out. alone.
that was my birthday.
completely unrelated, but more venting...
there are two types of people, as far as i can tell. the kind who listen and the kind who wait to speak. because i'm her friend, i don't mind listening to the same things she wants to talk about every day. and when i don't, i listen anyway. i don't judge her based on her romantic decisions. i let her practice science talks to me. and i don't roll my eyes at her, as much as i sometimes want to.
she says she doesn't give a fuck about dating and my house, and that that is all i talk about, so we now have nothing to talk about, and that's just not fair. i admit that i'm super into talking about boys right now, and if she asks what i'm doing and i have plans, that's what i say i'm doing.
after a year of being totally alone, i am having fantastic luck out of the gates with dating. and i enjoy it. i don't care if it is not forever. i'm having FUN. i don't intend to slow down or stop anytime soon. and as long as i'm meeting new people, i'm going to talk about it to anyone who asks or acts like they care, to anyone who is a friend.
i'm excited that i’m finally doing something about boys, and that it’s paying off. if the same thing happened to her, i'd be thrilled for her. but i talk about boys as little as possible around her, recently. and when she has asked me about it, twice in front of other people, i answered, and both times got cut off and corrected.
as far as calling my dating 'drama', i clarify: if i am crying about it, that's drama. if someone is being mean and yelling, that is drama. but giggling about a cute text is not drama. and certainly not the last of a string of things that can be considered drama.
instead of complaining about what we discuss, figure out something else to say. don't ask a question if you don't care about the answer. i'm happy to talk about anything. life, love, choices, decisions, ANYTHING. well, except for politics and world events.
but a conversation is a two way street. and if you want to know something, sometimes you have to ask questions or change the subject. it's not like i only know how to talk about boys. look back in this blog, if you doubt that. yeah. the last two weeks have been saturated with boys and house. among posts about relationships with my parents and my sister, and my plans for the rest of my entire life. i have a lot on my mind. all the time. and i enjoy talking about boys, if given the chance. i try to keep it in check. but why shouldn't i? before it was the divorce. and before that it was ever. it's NICE to write about something that is happy lighthearted fun. it fun to talk about things boys say that are nice and flattering.
and forgive me for being excited about my house. actually, don't. i love that i'm house proud. it's so much better than hating where i live, and wanting out of this city, and wanting out in general. i have worked so fucking hard on my house, and fought hard for control of my house, even when i was convinced that i'd hate living in it. i never thought i'd be happy in the house, or look forward to working on it again. but i AM. and it's consuming. anyone who is a homeowner can tell you that, especially a new homeowner, we think about it all the time. it becomes a priority, and a source of excitement. and great joy.
back to the birthday thing. and what i did that was met with what she did to me...
at the sleepover, she had SWAGGER. she was fancied up. it was the first time that i knew, without a doubt, that she believed that she was absolutely beautiful. that she was the happiest i have seen her, since last summer at the star party. and i was over the moon. i mean, FINALLY. god, finally, she found happiness. and it wasn't because of any boy. i made the biggest deal out of it. pam, kim, and i all did. it's about classical conditioning. reward the behavior you want to have repeated. she had such an amazing time. but it was so fleeting. and that crushed me completely by saturday night.
what happened then was that things didn't go the way she wanted with a boy. she called him out and let him fuck her evening up. i couldn't understand why on earth she let him have so much power to ruin her night, when he just wants to be her friend, and stated that when he met her a year ago and she expressed interest. and right off the bat on saturday, when i got to the party a little late, admittedly, one of the first things she said was that she was annoyed. and i kind of mentally checked out right about then.
because twenty people just dropped what they were doing to go to the place she told them to, at the time she said to be there, for her birthday. and she let someone who wasn't really much of a friend affect the way that she treated the people who have known her way longer than i have.
not to mention, i brought a poor unsuspecting boy to her party because she has a crush on him (mike). i brought him into it, putting him into an awkward situation so he'd be there for her. and she said hi, and that was about it. i offered to leave with him via a text from outside the bar while i smoked an hour after we arrived, because i didn't want anyone to know that he was uncomfortable. and she spent the night convinced that he just wanted to fuck her new best friend.
i kept to myself that night, for the most part. i made small talk with the people around me. except for the part of the evening where i was with a certain boy who started conversing with me about his new business.
when she commented to me that she didn't think people were having fun, i stopped her. and i literally went around the table pointing at every single person there, because i was frustrated with her attitude. and i said, 'he's having fun, she's having fun', all the way around the table. when i got to the friend i was talking with, and said, 'he's having fun,' she rolled her eyes and said, 'of course he is. he's been talking to YOU all night.'
i'd been talking to him for maybe fifteen minutes out of the three hours i'd been there.
it's these little digs that can’t tolerate. i put up with those more than i'd like to admit. i am not a villain. i'm not a bad friend, either. i have done nothing flirtatious or inappropriate with this dude, who made it clear to her the first time he met me that he liked me (not my fault - i certainly wasn't trying to get him to), and who i made clear to her the first time she told me he was interested, that not only am i not interested in him, but that i would never go for him, even if i was. i live by hoes before bros. i'd never fuck someone a friend had, past or present. she knows this.
and the worst part is, she deduces it to the fact that i'm skinny. which is offensive enough on its own. it can't be that he likes me because i'm cool or funny or nice or awesome or sweet. it's because i'm skinnier. i won't even go to gatherings where this guy is, in a group setting, if i can avoid it. i'm not touching him with a ten foot pole. i'm afraid to even be his friend, because of what she might say about me or insinuate.
i spent my life until now defining myself by the relationships i was in. and sometimes i think i'm here to be her friend, to help her through the part that comes next. which is realizing that until she figures out who she is, at her core, and is legitimately happy on her own, she will never be happy with anyone else. it's where i lived and thrived for my life, until 33. it's not easy. you need a really good friend to help you through the dark bits.
the fun i'm having now? i'm having fun now, because i finally don't give a FUCK. because i finally know that i am awesome. i have confidence i have never had before. i feel cute. i feel like i can get something, if i want it and go for it. i know that i'm awesome whether i'm alone or standing next to someone or fucking someone or married to someone or divorcing someone. and no guy is going to come along and complete me, because i am completely self sufficient.
and yeah, it's nice to be in bed next to someone. i'm way happier laid than not. but i can wait a week between and not sweat it. i can wait a week in between without a phone call or an email. because having the person around is just a bonus.
yesterday, a morning walk home from joey's, when she texted me to stoop with her...
i talked for maybe ten minutes about my night with joey, after listening to her tell me what happened after i left the end of her party. to simplify it down to ten minutes was next to impossible for me. a major struggle, because it was so fresh, and i was only about 20 minutes out of his apartment. i was trying to stick to the facts and not get all gushy.
then we walked together to favorite bar. she stayed for brunch, but i said i had to leave, because i was wearing yesterday's clothes and was too tired. when sam came outside and asked us if we were coming in, i said no. i didn't say anything about sex. i didn't say walk of shame. i said i'm dirty and tired, and not able to handle easter sunday brunch. usual sunday brunch is more than i can deal with, because they all turn into mean crabby people in the thick of the insanity. i've waitressed so much, i understand being slammed and understaffed. and i feel bad for them. and it's not the time i want to go try to hang out with them. they can't hang out anyway, because they're too swamped. so i said i was leaving, and i told her to have fun, and that i was sorry i was too ill to stay. and she took a step to go inside, and i took a turning step to walk away from her, and in the middle of six tables full of people, to sam and the other bartender on the sidewalk, she announced loudly, 'it's my birthday and SHE gets laid!'
i was completely embarrassed, and walked toward the corner i needed to cross to head home. and her response was to say more, also loudly, in the middle of all those tables, 'no one heard,' motioning toward the tables, 'see? no one cares.' and i just walked away. and got to the corner.
and she said, 'don't make me chase you, i'll do it!' it was mortifying. i walked back as she walked toward me and i said, 'do not make a scene. i'm not angry. but i am leaving now. i want to go home. i want a shower. i need to sleep.'
and i fought the urge to say i was angry, but instead said i wasn't angry, because i didn't have the energy for it. and i didn't want to ruin the last of her birthday weekend. i told her to have a good brunch. and made my way home, telling myself i'd talk to her about it some other time when i wasn't as angry and she wasn't out celebrating. she was supposed to come over for the last of the birthday cake that night, but flaked. which was fine, because i was happy alone, and don't know that i was ready to talk about it yet.
camel, meet straw:
she had come to the store earlier in the day on monday. and she came back later in the afternoon, with her new best friend in tow. and talked dramatically about how her night was going to be deathly awful, and how tomorrow was going to suck completely. and i said that was too bad, because i was going to ask to hang out after work. i wanted to talk to her about all of this away from everyone else, and when i asked why tomorrow was going to be so bad for her, instead of telling me, she turned to her coworker and went through the technical details of her experiments.
by doing this, she both let her friend know that i don't know what she's talking about, and simultaneously let me know that she has someone better than me, who understands her and can relate. that she doesn't need me to understand big complicated science stuff.
and i worked while she did it. noting it mentally, but not reacting. putting it on my list for later conversation, because i thought it was rude and showy. i asked what she was doing, not her friend. so why didn't she just answer my question? i was listening for her answer, and she excluded me intentionally.
and right then, my phone happened to ding, because matthew happened to text me. to tell me not to worry, that he was looking for my understudy for the wedding, and it made me laugh. because to me, it said that i was the star of the play, and that he didn't want me to stress about him finding a back up date. when i said the line about the understudy, she rolled her eyes so hard i thought she was seizing, and turned to new friend to say loudly, 'i'm SO not impressed with this guy'.
it struck me so hard, that i couldn't not say something. it was just the icing on the birthday cake.
what i wanted to say was, 'then it's a good thing you're not dating him. because i don't need you to be impressed by anything in my life.' but what i said instead, calmly with clenched teeth that i hid pretty well considering the inflammation, was 'yeah. you know what? i can't talk to you about boys anymore. i'm sorry. i forgot - i was trying not to. your reactions and your eye rolls are just too much for me to deal with. when you say stuff like that, i take it personally...'
and my voice caught when i said it, because i was heartbroken and choked up. i'd had all i could take.
and her reaction? she stormed out, right then and there. with her friend lagging behind, probably in a daze from what the fuck had just gone down, when absolutely NOTHING had happened. i didn't even watch her leave. i worked through it, making drinks and helping customers. because i didn't want to cry in the middle of my shift.
i was super disappointed when i invited her to meet matthew last sunday, and she didn't try to talk to him or get to know him. i was, quite simply, offended. on at least one occasion with all the boys she has dated while i've known her (six of them, off the top of my head), i have gone out, and spent over an hour talking to each of them. because if they were cool enough for her, they were cool enough for me to give them my undivided attention.
and i have ONE GUY (since chalk in august, who she hated, and made it known to both of us) that apparently didn’t deserve ten of her minutes, when i peed and had a cigarette, and left them alone together.
all of this combined is why i think that this will never be what it was.
in jersey, i thought that i'd never be able to be her friend again. and somehow, i let that slide.
and now that she is lashing out at me, i won't fight back. and i'm putting a lid on the grease fire, instead of throwing water on it, causing an even crazier explosion.
i'm okay with who i am, and if i can't be myself with her, then what the fuck is the point? 'best friends' shouldn't have to pretend and hide things from each other. i'm done with that part of my life. i've been someone i'm not for the past nine or so years. it took me a year to find myself again. and those days are over.
i'm sick of being some toned down version of myself, so that i don't accidentally upset her. sick of banging my head against a wall, having carbon copy conversations with her every week about her life and what she has to do to make it different, and better. and what she won't do. ad nauseum.
we’ve defied the odds making it this long without strangling each other. i know there have been times when i wanted to shake her, and i'd be stupid if i didn't think she wanted to do the same to me at least eighty five times more than that, because she's so quickly upset by things that are mostly misconstrued and misunderstood, and even when there's nothing to be upset about at all.
i spent a few minutes today thinking about all the things i have that are hers, all the things i tangibly owe her. hearing a cash register 'ca-ching' in my head when i think about what else i might need to come up with to settle up. i'm making a mental list of things that need to go into a box back to her.
i realized i need to back up everything on the laptop i write this blog from. i either need to get a price and buy it, if she even wants to sell it to me, or give it back. besides the computer, i have a camping chair cover, a stack of bins she let me use to move into the house, clothes she asked me to hang on to for her, a bookshelf she asked me to take to the house for storage, and a couple sedaris books i didn't have a chance to read yet.
it was a year and a half long relationship, and it won’t be easy to figure out what we have that belonged to each other, because it was a slow accumulation of borrowing things. i know it's partly because i'm so fucking stubborn. but it's also because she tends to talk about how much she gets taken advantage of, and i refuse to be the subject when she's doing that.
i don't think i can go back to what our relationship was. i'm not saying we can’t have a relationship, just not the same one.
we both deserve the good parts, but i am done with the bad parts. maybe after a recovery period, that hopefully includes some acknowledgment of flaws, and an apology for them.
i’m happy to do the same, to put in some effort, but i can’t just roll over and shake this off. it needs to be addressed and overcome in order to recover. and only then can we try to salvage what is left from before, and turn a new leaf and start again...
i intended to write this in paper journal like i did the last fight (human, not cat) that i alluded to, but i didn't have the hand strength. a pen can't keep up with two hands on a keyboard. i had to get it out of my system, and while i don’t want to share it with the world, i feel okay with this, because as i said in that post, sometimes the hardest things to communicate are exactly what you should. i'll try not to be mean, because these are things you simply cannot take back. i'm thinking ahead, to a time when we can be some variation of friends. this is about the sixth incarnation of this post.
we've both recently posted love notes to each other on our blogs, which makes this even more ironic and shocking. i meant every word of mine. and i'm not going to say things here that will detract in any way from what she has done for me. i need to stick to the facts. no fancy charts and graphs, because i'm blogger retarded. it'll look more like a laundry list.
like her, i came to the same conclusion. something feels irretrievably broken to me in our friendship.
when we first became friends, i had no idea that she was seven years younger. from the outside, she had her shit super together, and was leap years ahead of anyone i know: career oriented, goal oriented, busting her ass in a phd program at an ivy league school. and she was at the end of a relationship of her own, as i was deciding to leave ever.
and she's right about something. i do document things well, but more than that, i remember the things that upset me the most, and i do have a little list of things i'm bitter with her about, but never wanted to say, because it would upset her. this, by the way, is exactly how i treated ever. i was afraid to upset him, and didn't communicate with him about things to avoid arguments.
i know that two of the worst days i had after leaving him, losing my shit in crisis mode, were two days that she wasn't available to me. and it wasn't her fault. i didn't blame her at all. one night she was bowling. i was supposed to go, and at the last minute couldn't. the other time she changed plans with me, i don't remember why. it's irrelevant.
what is important is that i was a fucking wreck, and i was totally alone. and it was the first clue that i had that i needed to pull myself together, because it's no one's job to do that; people have their own shit to worry about. it's not that i was hurt that she didn't drop everything to help me. because i didn't let on to her how bad things were in my head, if i remember correctly. but i guess i started to put distance between us, because she was my local best friend, but she's got a very busy life. and those two specific incidents made me realize that i shouldn't count on her to save me. that started the slight distancing. to that point, we'd been together pretty much every day, attached at the hip, and she was my lifeline.
to illustrate where i’m going with this:
on thanksgiving, she did the sweetest thing ever, and invited me to her family dinner. i would have been in a horrible place if she hadn't. it was my first big holiday alone, with no plans.
she was having a shit day. she was bent out of shape because her sister was being demanding, wanted to call the shots, and was lecturing her about smoking. she felt her sister was being rude and demeaning, but she ultimately gave me the silent treatment, because i didn't take her side.
i didn't take a side for two reasons. one, i was trying to mediate, not add fuel to a fire. i wanted a peaceful thanksgiving, and was trying to take the drama out of it. she hadn't had family around like that in a long time, and i wanted it to be happy. but also, i didn't take her side because i'd been sitting with everyone all morning and never heard a single thing that sounded like a catty/snippy/demeanin/disrespectful sentence come out of her sister's mouth.
i was punished for telling her that i hadn't heard anything that sounded out of line, and for recommending that we should just walk and smoke outside until she felt calmer and cooler and ready to go in and be civil. i said that i thought she was being overly sensitive. what happened, when i said that to her, in a very calm and caring way, is that she said to me, 'just fucking FORGET IT', and walked ahead of me.
i followed her in silence for a bit, fuming. and i know that i told her not to take it out on me, that i was just trying to help. it takes a lot to get me to yell at someone, even when they yell at me. and i know that i kept my voice even and calm because i didn't want her to freak out further, and especially not release that fire onto me.
i told her that, in a couple days, her sisters would all be gone. and then she could do whatever she wanted. but just try, TRY, to get along for two more days, especially thanksgiving day. and i offered to take her sister off her hands the next day, to give her a break so she could try to push the reset button on her bad attitude. and i did. we had a lot of fun, and left her alone. i don't know how much it did help, but i know it did at least a little. and i did that for her, despite being wickedly pissed that she was so nasty to me when i was trying to cool her down and help. and it took a couple days before i could talk to her about it, but i did.
and she honestly had no idea that i had even been upset, especially not enough to come back to it to talk about it at length after the situation had dissipated.
she pitches tantrums and makes scenes, and gets it out of her system, and then forgets that anything even happened at all. but i'm willing to guess that the people she directs things toward don't forget so quickly. i'm burnt on the complaining. the incessant problems. not everyone can have it all, all the time.
and the trip back from new jersey, where i fought the urge to drive myself back without her. the thing about that disaster was this...
i save her when she has panic attacks. i go overboard to accommodate her if she is in the middle of one, and go to great lengths to help her avoid having one. because i know how crippling it is, from having them myself. and because i know how, when someone is going through that, they can't see an end, and all they want is for the panic to end.
i will never know what the fuck happened that night. how i had the correct address in my phone (zip code and all). because it was in my history six different times, the same address. but i got to the first place that it told me to go, she was nowhere near me. and i didn't start to get nervous until i was driving from there to the next 'destination'. because at that point, i was where i was supposed to be, by the time i was supposed to be there.
i'd cut my trip to new york short, to get her when she was ready to be picked up. when i wasn't there waiting for her when she made her grand exit from the reception, she was PISSED. from her post, i think she believes that i did it on purpose. despite the fact that i told her i was doing my best, both during and after.
i had three separate panic attacks that night. each where i pulled off the road to re-route from my current location, shaking and tripping out. and i called her each time, because i didn't want to talk while i was lost and driving. i'd given up music and cigarettes, in an effort to concentrate, for over an hour.
twice when i called her, i was crying. begging her to please stop yelling at me, and to just tell me where to go. to ask someone if they knew where i was, by my landmarks, and how to get there from where i was. she wouldn't do it. she just yelled that she was plugging it into her phone and could see where to go from where i was, and how could i not fucking figure it out?
i offered to drive her to that goddamned wedding because she was fragile and upset and having a horrible life, just being dumped while having pneumonia, and the last place she wanted to be was at a wedding. and knowing that was her situation, if she had driven herself and gone alone like she was supposed to, one of two things would have happened: panic attacks, or not ending up at the wedding at all. THAT is why i took her. so she wouldn't have to worry or stress. i thought i had the money to swing it, and didn't ask for gas money or anything, because i just wanted to drive and think and process the things in my own head.
i offered to wait for her in the parking lot at the church, and drive her to the reception from there, but she refused. if she hadn’t, i'd have known precisely where to pick her up. instead of letting me do that for her, she said, ‘just go to new york. don't wait for me. i'll get a ride somehow.'
i sat in that parking lot on my phone, and probably left about ten minutes before she would have needed a ride, while i sorted out how to get to new york city from there. the entire thing could have been avoided. but it wasn't. all she had to tell me, at that point, is which exit she was off of.
after an hour and a half of me driving around, north and south of her, 30 miles at a time, she wouldn't tell me, wouldn't ask anyone. i finally said, angrily, 'you mean to tell me that you are at a wedding reception, leaving hours before anyone else, and there is literally not a single solitary person around that you can ask which exit you are off of? there is no one is working in the hotel?'
and she said, 'hang on.' with a grunt. and asked. and finally said, 'exit 30b.'
it took her five seconds to ask someone where she was. i had buzzed past that exit at least three times in the two hours i was trying to find her. all because she was commanding me to use my iphone, instead of just saying, 'hey, tea. take a deep breath. it's going to be okay. thank you for trying to find me. we're going to get home. just calm down. and get to this highway. and take exit 30b. and i'll be here.'
THAT was what i needed, and it should not have been that hard to do. she was so drunk and upset and self absorbed that all she could think about was how intolerable it was that she was cold (because she forgot her coat in my car), that she was outside for two hours (because she made a big scene and left after scarfing her dinner in under five minutes). because she couldn't take one more minute of being at a wedding, despite me telling her i'd text her when i was outside the hotel, and to stay at the reception until i got there. after telling her that i didn't mind waiting while she hung out. and that she was stuck in new jersey for two hours after she was ready to leave the wedding (um yeah, me, too), and that she couldn't take one more minute of wedding and waiting for me to come and get her.
once she said the exit, i was there in 20 minutes. it was right off ramp from the highway. i could not believe it. i pulled up into the hotel, and she slammed my car door. and gave me the silent treatment. she reeked of liquor and wouldn't tell me which direction to drive to get home. i was seeing red. i cannot remember the last time i was that angry.
after maybe 30 minutes, she told me about her epic bad night. and, yeah, i get it. if i was feeling that way, the last place i'd be is at a wedding. i would not have gone. and the last thing i'd be doing is treating my 'best friend' like a piece of shit, when only a couple hours before, leaving new york city, i'd said, 'i'll be there soon, and i'll put you back together. just let me get there, and you can cry in the car.'
there are not many qualities more unflattering than being an ingrate. i consistently go out of my way to tell and show people they are appreciated. i overtip. i thank the guy who drives my trolley, my bus, even my subway train. and when someone doesn't do the same for me when i'm behind the counter, i'll still help them and give excellent service. i'll still let people in front of me in traffic, even if they don't wave thanks. i'll still hold the door for someone, or let them cross in front of my car when i'm in a hurry.
but the extent of the opposite of that, that she went that night, was just inexcusable.
i was telling someone about what happened in jersey. and they asked why i was her friend at all - really couldn't understand how i could call her my local best friend. and i explained that when she's not being dramatic or mean, she's awesome. when you need something, she gives more than you need. up to, and including her last dime. and that i feel like i am on this planet to help her become a better person. a more well-rounded, confident person. that i'll repeatedly forgive her, and help her, because maybe it is what i can do to repay her for keeping me safe and sane when i left ever.
i think this would all be a lot less horrible to me if i hadn't just done something so extravagant a couple days before, completely honoring her, and going so far out of my way to make her feel super special. i didn't have to go so crazy with the food and the cake, the presents and the party favors. i mean, on my birthday, she made me an awesome cake from scratch from a family recipe, and sang to me in her apartment (i cheated and went bakery), and went with me to favorite bar. where she left, while i was finishing my last drink, to let a friend into her apartment. asking me to pay the tab, saying that she'd get me back later. we already had a running tab at the time with each other, and it got mixed in with that. but i paid for my own birthday drinks that night. and i wasn't exactly prepared to.
while i stumbled home (five doors down, luckily) alone and wickedly drunk, she got home to realize she'd forgotten to borrow my shop vac to inflate the air mattress she'd borrowed for her house guest that she'd left me to tend to.
while i puked my brains out, she banged on my door to get in. loudly enough at one am for landlord to see what the hell was going on. when i could finally stand, i passed it off to her, threw up some more, and passed out. alone.
that was my birthday.
completely unrelated, but more venting...
there are two types of people, as far as i can tell. the kind who listen and the kind who wait to speak. because i'm her friend, i don't mind listening to the same things she wants to talk about every day. and when i don't, i listen anyway. i don't judge her based on her romantic decisions. i let her practice science talks to me. and i don't roll my eyes at her, as much as i sometimes want to.
she says she doesn't give a fuck about dating and my house, and that that is all i talk about, so we now have nothing to talk about, and that's just not fair. i admit that i'm super into talking about boys right now, and if she asks what i'm doing and i have plans, that's what i say i'm doing.
after a year of being totally alone, i am having fantastic luck out of the gates with dating. and i enjoy it. i don't care if it is not forever. i'm having FUN. i don't intend to slow down or stop anytime soon. and as long as i'm meeting new people, i'm going to talk about it to anyone who asks or acts like they care, to anyone who is a friend.
i'm excited that i’m finally doing something about boys, and that it’s paying off. if the same thing happened to her, i'd be thrilled for her. but i talk about boys as little as possible around her, recently. and when she has asked me about it, twice in front of other people, i answered, and both times got cut off and corrected.
as far as calling my dating 'drama', i clarify: if i am crying about it, that's drama. if someone is being mean and yelling, that is drama. but giggling about a cute text is not drama. and certainly not the last of a string of things that can be considered drama.
instead of complaining about what we discuss, figure out something else to say. don't ask a question if you don't care about the answer. i'm happy to talk about anything. life, love, choices, decisions, ANYTHING. well, except for politics and world events.
but a conversation is a two way street. and if you want to know something, sometimes you have to ask questions or change the subject. it's not like i only know how to talk about boys. look back in this blog, if you doubt that. yeah. the last two weeks have been saturated with boys and house. among posts about relationships with my parents and my sister, and my plans for the rest of my entire life. i have a lot on my mind. all the time. and i enjoy talking about boys, if given the chance. i try to keep it in check. but why shouldn't i? before it was the divorce. and before that it was ever. it's NICE to write about something that is happy lighthearted fun. it fun to talk about things boys say that are nice and flattering.
and forgive me for being excited about my house. actually, don't. i love that i'm house proud. it's so much better than hating where i live, and wanting out of this city, and wanting out in general. i have worked so fucking hard on my house, and fought hard for control of my house, even when i was convinced that i'd hate living in it. i never thought i'd be happy in the house, or look forward to working on it again. but i AM. and it's consuming. anyone who is a homeowner can tell you that, especially a new homeowner, we think about it all the time. it becomes a priority, and a source of excitement. and great joy.
back to the birthday thing. and what i did that was met with what she did to me...
at the sleepover, she had SWAGGER. she was fancied up. it was the first time that i knew, without a doubt, that she believed that she was absolutely beautiful. that she was the happiest i have seen her, since last summer at the star party. and i was over the moon. i mean, FINALLY. god, finally, she found happiness. and it wasn't because of any boy. i made the biggest deal out of it. pam, kim, and i all did. it's about classical conditioning. reward the behavior you want to have repeated. she had such an amazing time. but it was so fleeting. and that crushed me completely by saturday night.
what happened then was that things didn't go the way she wanted with a boy. she called him out and let him fuck her evening up. i couldn't understand why on earth she let him have so much power to ruin her night, when he just wants to be her friend, and stated that when he met her a year ago and she expressed interest. and right off the bat on saturday, when i got to the party a little late, admittedly, one of the first things she said was that she was annoyed. and i kind of mentally checked out right about then.
because twenty people just dropped what they were doing to go to the place she told them to, at the time she said to be there, for her birthday. and she let someone who wasn't really much of a friend affect the way that she treated the people who have known her way longer than i have.
not to mention, i brought a poor unsuspecting boy to her party because she has a crush on him (mike). i brought him into it, putting him into an awkward situation so he'd be there for her. and she said hi, and that was about it. i offered to leave with him via a text from outside the bar while i smoked an hour after we arrived, because i didn't want anyone to know that he was uncomfortable. and she spent the night convinced that he just wanted to fuck her new best friend.
i kept to myself that night, for the most part. i made small talk with the people around me. except for the part of the evening where i was with a certain boy who started conversing with me about his new business.
when she commented to me that she didn't think people were having fun, i stopped her. and i literally went around the table pointing at every single person there, because i was frustrated with her attitude. and i said, 'he's having fun, she's having fun', all the way around the table. when i got to the friend i was talking with, and said, 'he's having fun,' she rolled her eyes and said, 'of course he is. he's been talking to YOU all night.'
i'd been talking to him for maybe fifteen minutes out of the three hours i'd been there.
it's these little digs that can’t tolerate. i put up with those more than i'd like to admit. i am not a villain. i'm not a bad friend, either. i have done nothing flirtatious or inappropriate with this dude, who made it clear to her the first time he met me that he liked me (not my fault - i certainly wasn't trying to get him to), and who i made clear to her the first time she told me he was interested, that not only am i not interested in him, but that i would never go for him, even if i was. i live by hoes before bros. i'd never fuck someone a friend had, past or present. she knows this.
and the worst part is, she deduces it to the fact that i'm skinny. which is offensive enough on its own. it can't be that he likes me because i'm cool or funny or nice or awesome or sweet. it's because i'm skinnier. i won't even go to gatherings where this guy is, in a group setting, if i can avoid it. i'm not touching him with a ten foot pole. i'm afraid to even be his friend, because of what she might say about me or insinuate.
i spent my life until now defining myself by the relationships i was in. and sometimes i think i'm here to be her friend, to help her through the part that comes next. which is realizing that until she figures out who she is, at her core, and is legitimately happy on her own, she will never be happy with anyone else. it's where i lived and thrived for my life, until 33. it's not easy. you need a really good friend to help you through the dark bits.
the fun i'm having now? i'm having fun now, because i finally don't give a FUCK. because i finally know that i am awesome. i have confidence i have never had before. i feel cute. i feel like i can get something, if i want it and go for it. i know that i'm awesome whether i'm alone or standing next to someone or fucking someone or married to someone or divorcing someone. and no guy is going to come along and complete me, because i am completely self sufficient.
and yeah, it's nice to be in bed next to someone. i'm way happier laid than not. but i can wait a week between and not sweat it. i can wait a week in between without a phone call or an email. because having the person around is just a bonus.
yesterday, a morning walk home from joey's, when she texted me to stoop with her...
i talked for maybe ten minutes about my night with joey, after listening to her tell me what happened after i left the end of her party. to simplify it down to ten minutes was next to impossible for me. a major struggle, because it was so fresh, and i was only about 20 minutes out of his apartment. i was trying to stick to the facts and not get all gushy.
then we walked together to favorite bar. she stayed for brunch, but i said i had to leave, because i was wearing yesterday's clothes and was too tired. when sam came outside and asked us if we were coming in, i said no. i didn't say anything about sex. i didn't say walk of shame. i said i'm dirty and tired, and not able to handle easter sunday brunch. usual sunday brunch is more than i can deal with, because they all turn into mean crabby people in the thick of the insanity. i've waitressed so much, i understand being slammed and understaffed. and i feel bad for them. and it's not the time i want to go try to hang out with them. they can't hang out anyway, because they're too swamped. so i said i was leaving, and i told her to have fun, and that i was sorry i was too ill to stay. and she took a step to go inside, and i took a turning step to walk away from her, and in the middle of six tables full of people, to sam and the other bartender on the sidewalk, she announced loudly, 'it's my birthday and SHE gets laid!'
i was completely embarrassed, and walked toward the corner i needed to cross to head home. and her response was to say more, also loudly, in the middle of all those tables, 'no one heard,' motioning toward the tables, 'see? no one cares.' and i just walked away. and got to the corner.
and she said, 'don't make me chase you, i'll do it!' it was mortifying. i walked back as she walked toward me and i said, 'do not make a scene. i'm not angry. but i am leaving now. i want to go home. i want a shower. i need to sleep.'
and i fought the urge to say i was angry, but instead said i wasn't angry, because i didn't have the energy for it. and i didn't want to ruin the last of her birthday weekend. i told her to have a good brunch. and made my way home, telling myself i'd talk to her about it some other time when i wasn't as angry and she wasn't out celebrating. she was supposed to come over for the last of the birthday cake that night, but flaked. which was fine, because i was happy alone, and don't know that i was ready to talk about it yet.
camel, meet straw:
she had come to the store earlier in the day on monday. and she came back later in the afternoon, with her new best friend in tow. and talked dramatically about how her night was going to be deathly awful, and how tomorrow was going to suck completely. and i said that was too bad, because i was going to ask to hang out after work. i wanted to talk to her about all of this away from everyone else, and when i asked why tomorrow was going to be so bad for her, instead of telling me, she turned to her coworker and went through the technical details of her experiments.
by doing this, she both let her friend know that i don't know what she's talking about, and simultaneously let me know that she has someone better than me, who understands her and can relate. that she doesn't need me to understand big complicated science stuff.
and i worked while she did it. noting it mentally, but not reacting. putting it on my list for later conversation, because i thought it was rude and showy. i asked what she was doing, not her friend. so why didn't she just answer my question? i was listening for her answer, and she excluded me intentionally.
and right then, my phone happened to ding, because matthew happened to text me. to tell me not to worry, that he was looking for my understudy for the wedding, and it made me laugh. because to me, it said that i was the star of the play, and that he didn't want me to stress about him finding a back up date. when i said the line about the understudy, she rolled her eyes so hard i thought she was seizing, and turned to new friend to say loudly, 'i'm SO not impressed with this guy'.
it struck me so hard, that i couldn't not say something. it was just the icing on the birthday cake.
what i wanted to say was, 'then it's a good thing you're not dating him. because i don't need you to be impressed by anything in my life.' but what i said instead, calmly with clenched teeth that i hid pretty well considering the inflammation, was 'yeah. you know what? i can't talk to you about boys anymore. i'm sorry. i forgot - i was trying not to. your reactions and your eye rolls are just too much for me to deal with. when you say stuff like that, i take it personally...'
and my voice caught when i said it, because i was heartbroken and choked up. i'd had all i could take.
and her reaction? she stormed out, right then and there. with her friend lagging behind, probably in a daze from what the fuck had just gone down, when absolutely NOTHING had happened. i didn't even watch her leave. i worked through it, making drinks and helping customers. because i didn't want to cry in the middle of my shift.
i was super disappointed when i invited her to meet matthew last sunday, and she didn't try to talk to him or get to know him. i was, quite simply, offended. on at least one occasion with all the boys she has dated while i've known her (six of them, off the top of my head), i have gone out, and spent over an hour talking to each of them. because if they were cool enough for her, they were cool enough for me to give them my undivided attention.
and i have ONE GUY (since chalk in august, who she hated, and made it known to both of us) that apparently didn’t deserve ten of her minutes, when i peed and had a cigarette, and left them alone together.
all of this combined is why i think that this will never be what it was.
in jersey, i thought that i'd never be able to be her friend again. and somehow, i let that slide.
and now that she is lashing out at me, i won't fight back. and i'm putting a lid on the grease fire, instead of throwing water on it, causing an even crazier explosion.
i'm okay with who i am, and if i can't be myself with her, then what the fuck is the point? 'best friends' shouldn't have to pretend and hide things from each other. i'm done with that part of my life. i've been someone i'm not for the past nine or so years. it took me a year to find myself again. and those days are over.
i'm sick of being some toned down version of myself, so that i don't accidentally upset her. sick of banging my head against a wall, having carbon copy conversations with her every week about her life and what she has to do to make it different, and better. and what she won't do. ad nauseum.
we’ve defied the odds making it this long without strangling each other. i know there have been times when i wanted to shake her, and i'd be stupid if i didn't think she wanted to do the same to me at least eighty five times more than that, because she's so quickly upset by things that are mostly misconstrued and misunderstood, and even when there's nothing to be upset about at all.
i spent a few minutes today thinking about all the things i have that are hers, all the things i tangibly owe her. hearing a cash register 'ca-ching' in my head when i think about what else i might need to come up with to settle up. i'm making a mental list of things that need to go into a box back to her.
i realized i need to back up everything on the laptop i write this blog from. i either need to get a price and buy it, if she even wants to sell it to me, or give it back. besides the computer, i have a camping chair cover, a stack of bins she let me use to move into the house, clothes she asked me to hang on to for her, a bookshelf she asked me to take to the house for storage, and a couple sedaris books i didn't have a chance to read yet.
it was a year and a half long relationship, and it won’t be easy to figure out what we have that belonged to each other, because it was a slow accumulation of borrowing things. i know it's partly because i'm so fucking stubborn. but it's also because she tends to talk about how much she gets taken advantage of, and i refuse to be the subject when she's doing that.
i don't think i can go back to what our relationship was. i'm not saying we can’t have a relationship, just not the same one.
we both deserve the good parts, but i am done with the bad parts. maybe after a recovery period, that hopefully includes some acknowledgment of flaws, and an apology for them.
i’m happy to do the same, to put in some effort, but i can’t just roll over and shake this off. it needs to be addressed and overcome in order to recover. and only then can we try to salvage what is left from before, and turn a new leaf and start again...
crashing down, and mayday. may 2nd.
it's a hard thing to adjust to.
i had been absolutely high on life for a couple weeks running, feeling almost invincible. everything was perfect. perfect weather is what kicked it off. followed by boy stuff and house stuff. tiny little things lining up on a daily basis. nearly escaping being doored by a car despite being lost in a daydream.
all those little coincidences where other people make one decision, and it changes everything for you.
there were too many to count, really. old tea, back in the day tea, would have blathered on and on about how wonderful and perfect everything is, how everything happens for a reason, and how everything is meant to be.
new tea says, 'hmm...' and moves on.
the thing is, when it's so beautiful outside after such a rotten winter, it's hard to not smile. everyone is smiling.
and it's hard to be indoors. everyone is out in the weather.
i've been lucky the past four spring seasons, i'd guess. i haven't had allergy issues in years. when i first moved up here, i was really sick, because my poor florida body wasn't accustomed to pennsylvania pollen i guess.
and this year? well, it's just unacceptable. i've had yet ANOTHER cold for a few days now. friday i felt so terrible that i caved, called my doctor, and paid a retarded sum of money for fake allegra, mucinex, and nasonex. i'm juicing. it's kinda funny.
but it's also not going away. there was a day, thursday i guess, when i used my neti pot four times in one day. and my nose was so clogged, no saline would pass through. it was unreal.
and i spent friday afternoon on my deck. and friday night. all day saturday. and then all day yesterday on a bicycle adventure date with sam. not to mention, every window in the house (except my bedroom) is open. pollen is on everything.
but i can't not sit outside when it's 65 and sunny. and i can't keep the house closed up when the breeze is so amazing.
the price i pay...
getting sick was part of the fall.
the underlying stress and anger from that fight took a few days to sink in. i did a great job of ignoring it at first, because i was angry. but then i wrote through the anger, and got really sad about it. and then i wrote through the sadness, and now i guess i just feel nothing about it. it's a holding pattern of sorts. i need time. and i'm taking it.
and as the weather got nicer, i became an insomniac again. it's been so rough. on work nights, i've been up until 1 or 2 every single night. which kinda kills when you wake up at 545 or 7. thursday and saturday nights were both 4 am nights. and i can't sleep in, even when i try. so i'm running on a few hours of sleep, for a couple weeks running now, i guess.
and i got into bed at 830 last night. and was awake until midnight.
i don't know what it is. my body just thinks it can function properly without sleep when the days are nice and don't have to end. when the nights are pretty and tempting. and i can fight it with brain power or medicine. and insomnia wins. it sucks.
i think the saddest i got in the last seven days was the thursday/friday combo bummer. thursday was matthew hangout night. and i guess he seemed slightly less excited to see me, and slightly less enthusiastic about hanging out.
and i know it's because he was tired. we both were, and that was the day i woke up snotnosed. but dinner was just okay. and conversation was just okay. and the sex was just okay.
it felt lackluster. and it made me sad. i didn't see him for a week, and we usually have stupid amounts of fun together. so what would probably have been a good night for other people was really disappointing for me, because it was the least fun i've had with him.
i mean, we had fun. we went to a diner and to a bar after that. and came home and put on napolean dynamite. it wasn't bad. it just wasn't spectacular, like it normally is with him.
the worst bit is that he fell asleep at 1030. and i was awake. until 4 in the fucking morning. i even took nyquil in an effort to pass out. it didn't work. it was just the worst. because i had to work the next day. i could not turn off my brain. and my brain could not turn off my body.
and he left and i took a nap before getting up to go help the girls do inventory, before going to delaware. i usually wake up at 8 if i do that, it's a 2.5 hour nap that fixes me. at the lastest nine. so imagine my panic when i woke up at 945. i knew i needed the sleep, but it threw a major wrench in my day.
on thursday, i had my last $20 on me. and spent it. knowing that i literally had change in my checking account. i had fucked up last weekend and overspent. and kept things on lockdown last week. but it was too late.
so that was weighing heavily on me. money tends to stress me out quite a bit. it's most of the worrying that i do. just not good. and to be that broke? really really not good.
so i couldn't even buy anything i needed in delaware. which was the worst feeling, because ultimately it means i will have to spend more money on it later.
the thursday/friday combo clusterfuck was fully achieved on my way back from delaware. despite waking up late, i felt pretty good. i was in a fine mood, and felt better when i woke up next to matthew than i did when i fell asleep next to him. but i was playing a new mix in my car, and a pinback song came on.
and it made me realize that joey is m.i.a.
what's the most funny is that i know i said, at least twice, after easter sunday morning, that i didn't care if he never called me again. that it wouldn't really matter and that it was fine.
but after he called and missed me twice on sunday, and texted back and forth that night, that was that. he instigated all of the texting that had ever gone between us. and i texted him on tuesday asking him how he was doing, and then on thursday asking him to go to the show with me, because he likes them and i had an extra ticket. i got nothing back.
i'd told him when i hung out with him that i'd pick up a record for him at the show, and he was stoked.
so when the song came up on the mix that was already a little dull/melancholy, i realized he hadn't responded at all. so i called him. and i left him a nonchalant cheery message, calling him duder most likely, and saying i didn't hear from him about the show and didn't know if he was tied up.
whatever. hung up. drove back to phila.
nothing.
and so i decided, at four o'clock on saturday afternoon, that i would give him one last chance before calling it quits. and i called. and he didn't answer. and i hung up and asked mike to go with me.
i feel better about it now. but on friday, i was sad about it. i don't want to think that easter was the only day i'll ever hang out with him. the trick with him will be stars aligning. because he's the type of person to ask at the last possible second, planning is not his strong suit. and i plan everything ahead. so the chance that he'll ask when i'm not already doing something is slim.
so it goes. i only let myself call him a second time because i hadn't yet, and because he's called me several times. but in my head, it reminded me of chasing coffee. calling and popping up where he worked. texting didn't exist in those days, but the texting added another layer. it made me very self conscious, because i really don't like being the one to make first contact. and it made me feel stalkerly. but then i realized that was just stupid. and i guess that i've come a long way. because before i would have either popped up at his place, because i bike very near it so often, or would have put the record i got in his mailslot or something equally insane.
and so i waited. and heard nothing.
i don't know what i'll end up doing with the record. i bought two, because even though i don't have a record player, i wanted it. it was a super special edition, and there were only a few left. and i got a tour ep in a handmade case as well. they always have awesome merch, because they only sell their tour eps on the road. i was really excited to have exactly enough money to get all three things.
and wasn't really mad about the joey thing. i wish it could be that his phone is broken, because it was well on its way there. but i know it's not, because it didn't go straight to voicemail.
whatever. he'll pop up again some day. or he won't.
it bothered me a lot on friday. and a little on saturday.
but the show was AMAZING. i almost went alone, because i've never gone to a show alone and not met up with someone there. but i'm glad i didn't, because there weren't actual tickets, so i would have had to meet someone outside the place, and take them in with me. i don't know.
choosing to ask mike was the best idea. he had never heard of them, and ended up loving them. we walked in, and this fucking hideous band was opening for them. i mean, i left halfway through their set because i couldn't deal variety of awful.
but we walked in and bought a beer, and gave the band a listen. and i look up to mike's left. and rob crow is just standing there, kinda being into the band. head nodding, and all.
it seemed so unlikely that i was convinced i was wrong about him. i wanted to say hi and thank him for being an amazing musician, but my gushy starstruck self probably would have kept going on. and that would have been stupid.
it was so sad, because the last time i saw them, i'd made food for everyone. and met his wife and son. and talked to him for maybe 5 or 10 minutes.
and then he was right next to me, and i was afraid to approach. i already had set myself up for feeling weird, because that last show i watched them play from the side of the stage. being on the spectator end of things is a far cry from being behind the scenes. ever was good for green room access, and i met some amazing musicians in the days i spent with him.
the show was so incredible, that the disappointed feeling only lasted for that little window of time. they played so many songs. and only two the whole night that i didn't know. their encore was five songs long. which is just unheard of. it was the best. i love them so much, and live, they are really fantastic. and they played my absolute favorite song. which i managed to record in its entirety on my phone.
and then it was over, and we were zipping from one end of the city home, listening to mobb deep and gza on mike's phone, through the middle of the city on a saturday night. drunk people loud and everywhere.
and i got home, and turned off the computer at maybe 130. and was up until 4. so gross.
woke up sunday, feeling pretty good somehow. i'd slept until 1130, had just enough time to pound a big ass mason jar of iced coffee, get a shower and get ready for my date.
so. finally. sam.
i think this date took about a month and a half to set up. and i was running behind yesterday, so i didn't mind that he was, too.
he asked if i wanted to meet him on time, or if i'd rather he be an hour late with a bike.
so i said hour late with a bike. and gave miss breezy a bath.
it was awesome. first bike wash in three years. i practically detailed her. all but the spit shine on her chrome.
i took a little soft sponge and took about 45 minutes cleaning her. between the spokes and all. then windexed all the chrome, and hand dried her.
it was funny. it's funny to write about her as a her. but that's how i feel. she's a she. and she was happy.
when he said he was ready and leaving the town where he lives, i started biking. i knew i'd have some time before he got there, and knew i wanted to take pictures, because it's always pretty.
and yesterday was the best possible day for biking. it was not even 70. and it was overcast. there was no hot sun to beam down. and the wind wasn't bad, so there was no extra work to do against it. and by the time we finally met up, it was two hours after we'd originally planned to meet. and we just got right on the path after hugging hello. and talked while we dodged a thick crowd of people along boathouse row.
there was a regatta that had just ended, looked to be high school kids, and i had the chance to explain my limited knowledge of rowing to him.
i have realized that, due to my casual approach, i wasn't nervous at all waiting for him. and i think he was nervous about me, because the first fifteen or so minutes were highly concentrated with slang that made him sound dumb. and i thought, hmm... this might not have been the best idea.
he was adorable. and short like i like them. he looked exactly as he had presented himself online, which was a relief, as i didn't recognize geoff when he walked up to me. i knew sam right away.
but as we settled in and talked side by side on the bike path, he talked about things he knew, and the slang disappeared.
and we biked out about 5 miles. i'd already ridden 4 from my house at a slow clip, so as to not wear myself out before the date even started.
and about halfway down the path, i saw a familiar face. and he was smiling at me. and it was CATERPILLAR.
and i waved and said, 'hi, caterpillar!' enthusiastically. and he waved back and rode past. he was alone. i was glad that troll wasn't with him. or the trollop, as kim and pam call her. we haven't seen her with him lately, and i thought that seeing him alone would make for a nice little bit of conversation tomorrow.
had i been alone? i would have about faced and joined him. alas, i was not alone. note to self...
back to it.
we got to the end of the path. not the actual end, but where the construction had ended it for us. and we happened to be in manayunk. and i looked to my left, and saw that i was somehow in familiar territory, at the split in the road for main street. so i said we should grab a beer and a snack at the brewery.
and he was totally into it, so we did.
and i know it was a good idea. the food we picked was absolutely perfect. we ate everything, sharing, and weren't too full to bike back. it was great.
but our server sucked ASS. she didn't come by for a while, maybe ten minutes. then took our orders. and the food came out pretty quickly, because they were appetizers. and our beer was still missing maybe fifteen minutes after that. no water. nothing. which wouldn't have been bad if we hadn't just biked kinda far to get there.
and i finally grabbed another server and said we were looking for our server, who had our beers. she popped up like five minutes later. our food was halfway gone, because we were afraid to eat without drinks. it was just awful.
and when she remembered us and we finally got our beers, i thought maybe we'd get free drinks out of it. but we didn't. and, the kicker was, she brought him the wrong beer.
but times like that show a person's true colors. and he was as cool as i was, despite the situation. which was a relief. because i was about to have a mini freakout.
i'd guess we were there for an hour. they were playing reggae, we sat outside on the river because it was so nice out. and talked a lot more.
online, we noted shared musical interests, and i was pretty blown away when he said he had an extra ticket to see beirut in jersey, outside of new york city, in a theater. and asked if i'd like to go. problem was, i am already double booked that day. friday the 13th. otherwise, i'd have been all over it.
that opened a can of musical worms, where we went back and forth for the rest of the time we spent there.
and then we were biking back. and the way back is always so much faster. we got back to the place where he'd parked and had cigarettes, the first since we'd met up. i couldn't remember if he smoked, and he couldn't remember if i did. but he'd had his last one on the way there, so he bummed one. and we talked about what we could do the next time we hang out.
and decided a picnic lunch in fairmount park would be fun, and he offered to teach me frisbee golf. and i told him i've been pretty busy, but that maybe in a couple weeks we could make that happen.
it's so funny with boys. like, comparative shopping. no one is as cool as matthew yet, but geoff was fun to talk to. and sam was glad and relieved that i was into biking, and we had a super chill, laidback bicycle date that ended much better than i thought it would in the first ten minutes.
everything went well. i only had to stop to blow my nose a couple times. not bad, considering we were on a path that didn't feel like the city at all. everything was in bloom.
i hugged him goodbye, and had the feeling that he probably wanted to make out. but i kissed him on the lips and said goodbye. he offered to give me a ride home, but i told him i was into biking it. so i did.
20.25 miles, all told. i felt FANTASTIC.
contractor was working at his bar, and said i should swing by with my deck measurements for a beer on the way, so i did.
and in that beer, some of my dreams were dashed. as quickly as he'd told me that building the deck would be a lot less expensive than i thought, we started adding up the cost of the supplies. and they were right at $2000. and the labor would be about $2500.
and i just couldn't justify spending that kind of money, and said i didn't think i could swing it.
and biked home, at sunset. about three blocks from the house, the streetlights came on.
it was a great day. i had a lot of fun with sam, and even though the deck got sidelined, we decided to put a window in, and a functional door. and that i can hang on the roof for a couple years before worrying about a new roof and the deck that will someday have to protect it.
bittersweet. but sensible.
so we'll go back to the list of things that are much less fun than a deck, but also more important than the deck. and today i thought that maybe we could put stairs up to the third floor roof, because the deck would be half the size. and that i could swing. that's the view i want anyway...
we'll see what he says about it.
aside from that, aubree is now three short days from moving in. and i am beside myself with excitement.
mom and dad have been in a rough patch because of it. and i'm hoping that they can get excited for her (and me) soon, so that it doesn't feel like such a selfish bad thing that i did.
i guess that, from the talk i had with mom for over an hour a few days ago, what i'm left with is this:
mom and dad are super sad that, instead of having both of us home for the entire summer, they now get neither of us for the entire summer.
and i get it. yeah, i'd love to have sold the house, be sitting on a gigantic pile of cash like i thought i would be by now, and be going home for the whole summer. to sit and float in the pool and shun all my responsibilities. to not work, to just BE. and i'm sure that aubree feels the same way. she'd rather be around everyone and having an easy internship with the doctor she's been shadowing for the last year in surgery.
but i really know, without a doubt, that she is getting a once in a lifetime opportunity. and i'm thinking about her future, despite the fact that it started out being a way to not be in this house alone all summer.
i love my sister. i cannot wait for her to be here. where she can be herself, not an asexual version of herself. where people won't judge her. where she won't have to live a double life. i'll be the best distraction for her, with her girlfriend continents away, to quickly pass three months of what will be a life-changingly long year. to give her a place away from distractions to study for the mcats.
i just want her to see that there's so much more to life than florida. and so much more to living than doing what other people want you to do. my goal is to never put any pressure on her to be anywhere or do anything that isn't mandatory.
i'm not afraid to bust her chops about studying for the mcats, because she'll need that. and i'm not afraid to take her out here, too. but we have all summer for that.
i'm just hoping to give her a healthy environment. and i don't know what i'll get out of it, besides having too much fun with one of my absolute favorite people. i know i will learn a lot from her. and i know that having her around is going to be good for me.
but aside from that, i just want her here.
it's blowing my mind that the star party i've been waiting for since last year is now right around the corner. it's this month. it's in 24 days. i can't get over it.
and i'm excited to teach aubree what little tiny bit i know out there, and to be able to share that with her. it really changed my life, and though she is not as inclined to stargaze as i am, she's genuinely excited about going, and i think she'll at least have some sort of a spiritual experience up there. and, like i did, make peace with the things in her life that she can't control, and come back feeling better about her decisions, and excited and inspired.
it's going to be awesome.
and aside from that, nina gets here in 69 days. the number of days keep shrinking, and i keep getting more and more excited for our week of awesomeness. seems like i was just saying 86, and then 74.
and i had a great trip to my shrink today, who made me feel even more confident when i left, about the way i've been feeling and thinking and handling things. i was afraid to go, as i always am, afraid to cry, as i always am. and not only was it not scary, it wasn't a cryfest. and i talked more than i have the other visits, giving her less time to put together questions. there was no silence today.
and i left feeling lighter. it was a good day.
i feel better about joey today, i guess i've decided that it was great. and if that is all the time i get, i will be disappointed. but not heartbroken.
and maybe things with matthew will be better when we hopefully meet up on wednesday instead of thursday, when my sister gets here. maybe we'll both be less tired. and maybe he'll be a little more excited to see me. and maybe i'll have the balls to tell him that i really enjoy our two hour makeout sessions. and that i really enjoy the sex, too. and that what i would enjoy most? that would be having both.
in telling nina about it yesterday, i realized what frustrates me.
i need the making out to be turned on. and i need the sex to immediately follow if there is any hope for me overcoming my five year obstacle.
and he doesn't know about my five year obstacle. and i've never said either of those things to him in a way that would demand a serious response, because we tend to just have fun and give each other a lot of shit when we hang out.
but i don't want to skip the making out. and i don't want to skip the sex. and if he's not as driven as i am, that's fine. but i can go into our time together knowing what i'm getting into.
the only time i wasn't doing those two things with him was the sunday brunch date. and that was my favorite date with him. so i'm not saying that i can't have wholesome fun with him. i just prefer the wholesome bits followed by the naughty bits.
life with less stress, and letting go of the things that have been upsetting me in a lot of the aspects of my life have given me an appetite back. and all the exercise i've been getting have made me need to eat more. i'm feeling better about myself. now if i can just start eating vegetables, i'll pretty much have myself back to a place where i feel like i'm doing things mostly right.
i haven't been writing here, because that last post really consumed me for a few days. a lot happened, but i have this feeling now, like most of it is irrelevant. and yesterday, waiting for sam, i did something i haven't done in a very long time. i pulled out my sketchbook, and drew my surroundings for about five minutes until he got there. i've been so much better at photo documenting the nature and scenery of my life. not necessarily the people i spend so much time with. but drawing at the steps of the art museum was a great way to spend my time, as opposed to killing it.
and today, i don't feel the need to have the crazy highs. because they're usually followed by the crazy lows. today was a day of leveling out. recovering, even. and rebounding.
everything is going to be okay. and i think i'm exhausted enough to try to get some sleep. which i need. desperately.
tomorrow i have a date. it's a date i'm really excited about...
i haven't seen alice in so long that i can't remember the last time. and i asked her for a date last week, and she gave me tomorrow.
i hope that she makes it. we don't know what each other has been up to, and a reconnection is in order.
i also get to see lauren, who used to work with me. she biked to austin from here, and is in town for the court case stemming from over a year ago, when she was hit by a car on her bike. to try to recoup her hospital bill money, and said that as long as she gets her three front teeth fixed properly, she won't care what she gets beyond that.
she's a tough kid. i hope i get to see her as well...
i spent my afternoon, post-shrink, cooking and baking. on basement house day, i'd promised contractor a home cooked meal. enchiladas, a family favorite that mom makes for our birthdays, based on what he likes.
it takes about four hours to prepare them, because the tortillas are made from scratch, like the rest of the recipe. the last time i made them was last april, when the writer came to town, and i made them for him and his band friends.
it took over a month to make the time to prep them for contractor, and i don't know when he'll get to eat them, but they're all but made up. i don't like making empty promises. and it felt good to cross that off the unofficial house list.
and then, i spent an hour after that making my favorite chocolate chip cookie recipe. and i used four pans, two of which were mine from living here with ever. and the cookies on those pans burned on the bottom. blackened sugar, stuck to the pans. i pried them off with a pizza cutter, and bagged them for myself, i guess. it made me feel like a mom, who eats the food she burned and gives her kids the best of the batch.
and the two pans that turned out well will be mailed to a couple people who are far away and needing them...
being in my kitchen for all that time, and having more space than i needed felt right. i haven't spent that much time there since i moved back in. i've cooked some. not a lot. but it was a nice long stretch of thinking time. i got to talk to nina and to brownies, and had a lot of time to myself, too. both the boys came home while i worked, and i got to catch up with them as well.
things are falling into place. and just as last week is ending, and this week is getting started, i'll have a few days of quiet and adjustment to life in the middle of the road before aubree gets here and things really ramp up.
here's to life in the middle of the road. sometimes mediocrity is best for everyone. or maybe i'm just speaking for myself...
i had been absolutely high on life for a couple weeks running, feeling almost invincible. everything was perfect. perfect weather is what kicked it off. followed by boy stuff and house stuff. tiny little things lining up on a daily basis. nearly escaping being doored by a car despite being lost in a daydream.
all those little coincidences where other people make one decision, and it changes everything for you.
there were too many to count, really. old tea, back in the day tea, would have blathered on and on about how wonderful and perfect everything is, how everything happens for a reason, and how everything is meant to be.
new tea says, 'hmm...' and moves on.
the thing is, when it's so beautiful outside after such a rotten winter, it's hard to not smile. everyone is smiling.
and it's hard to be indoors. everyone is out in the weather.
i've been lucky the past four spring seasons, i'd guess. i haven't had allergy issues in years. when i first moved up here, i was really sick, because my poor florida body wasn't accustomed to pennsylvania pollen i guess.
and this year? well, it's just unacceptable. i've had yet ANOTHER cold for a few days now. friday i felt so terrible that i caved, called my doctor, and paid a retarded sum of money for fake allegra, mucinex, and nasonex. i'm juicing. it's kinda funny.
but it's also not going away. there was a day, thursday i guess, when i used my neti pot four times in one day. and my nose was so clogged, no saline would pass through. it was unreal.
and i spent friday afternoon on my deck. and friday night. all day saturday. and then all day yesterday on a bicycle adventure date with sam. not to mention, every window in the house (except my bedroom) is open. pollen is on everything.
but i can't not sit outside when it's 65 and sunny. and i can't keep the house closed up when the breeze is so amazing.
the price i pay...
getting sick was part of the fall.
the underlying stress and anger from that fight took a few days to sink in. i did a great job of ignoring it at first, because i was angry. but then i wrote through the anger, and got really sad about it. and then i wrote through the sadness, and now i guess i just feel nothing about it. it's a holding pattern of sorts. i need time. and i'm taking it.
and as the weather got nicer, i became an insomniac again. it's been so rough. on work nights, i've been up until 1 or 2 every single night. which kinda kills when you wake up at 545 or 7. thursday and saturday nights were both 4 am nights. and i can't sleep in, even when i try. so i'm running on a few hours of sleep, for a couple weeks running now, i guess.
and i got into bed at 830 last night. and was awake until midnight.
i don't know what it is. my body just thinks it can function properly without sleep when the days are nice and don't have to end. when the nights are pretty and tempting. and i can fight it with brain power or medicine. and insomnia wins. it sucks.
i think the saddest i got in the last seven days was the thursday/friday combo bummer. thursday was matthew hangout night. and i guess he seemed slightly less excited to see me, and slightly less enthusiastic about hanging out.
and i know it's because he was tired. we both were, and that was the day i woke up snotnosed. but dinner was just okay. and conversation was just okay. and the sex was just okay.
it felt lackluster. and it made me sad. i didn't see him for a week, and we usually have stupid amounts of fun together. so what would probably have been a good night for other people was really disappointing for me, because it was the least fun i've had with him.
i mean, we had fun. we went to a diner and to a bar after that. and came home and put on napolean dynamite. it wasn't bad. it just wasn't spectacular, like it normally is with him.
the worst bit is that he fell asleep at 1030. and i was awake. until 4 in the fucking morning. i even took nyquil in an effort to pass out. it didn't work. it was just the worst. because i had to work the next day. i could not turn off my brain. and my brain could not turn off my body.
and he left and i took a nap before getting up to go help the girls do inventory, before going to delaware. i usually wake up at 8 if i do that, it's a 2.5 hour nap that fixes me. at the lastest nine. so imagine my panic when i woke up at 945. i knew i needed the sleep, but it threw a major wrench in my day.
on thursday, i had my last $20 on me. and spent it. knowing that i literally had change in my checking account. i had fucked up last weekend and overspent. and kept things on lockdown last week. but it was too late.
so that was weighing heavily on me. money tends to stress me out quite a bit. it's most of the worrying that i do. just not good. and to be that broke? really really not good.
so i couldn't even buy anything i needed in delaware. which was the worst feeling, because ultimately it means i will have to spend more money on it later.
the thursday/friday combo clusterfuck was fully achieved on my way back from delaware. despite waking up late, i felt pretty good. i was in a fine mood, and felt better when i woke up next to matthew than i did when i fell asleep next to him. but i was playing a new mix in my car, and a pinback song came on.
and it made me realize that joey is m.i.a.
what's the most funny is that i know i said, at least twice, after easter sunday morning, that i didn't care if he never called me again. that it wouldn't really matter and that it was fine.
but after he called and missed me twice on sunday, and texted back and forth that night, that was that. he instigated all of the texting that had ever gone between us. and i texted him on tuesday asking him how he was doing, and then on thursday asking him to go to the show with me, because he likes them and i had an extra ticket. i got nothing back.
i'd told him when i hung out with him that i'd pick up a record for him at the show, and he was stoked.
so when the song came up on the mix that was already a little dull/melancholy, i realized he hadn't responded at all. so i called him. and i left him a nonchalant cheery message, calling him duder most likely, and saying i didn't hear from him about the show and didn't know if he was tied up.
whatever. hung up. drove back to phila.
nothing.
and so i decided, at four o'clock on saturday afternoon, that i would give him one last chance before calling it quits. and i called. and he didn't answer. and i hung up and asked mike to go with me.
i feel better about it now. but on friday, i was sad about it. i don't want to think that easter was the only day i'll ever hang out with him. the trick with him will be stars aligning. because he's the type of person to ask at the last possible second, planning is not his strong suit. and i plan everything ahead. so the chance that he'll ask when i'm not already doing something is slim.
so it goes. i only let myself call him a second time because i hadn't yet, and because he's called me several times. but in my head, it reminded me of chasing coffee. calling and popping up where he worked. texting didn't exist in those days, but the texting added another layer. it made me very self conscious, because i really don't like being the one to make first contact. and it made me feel stalkerly. but then i realized that was just stupid. and i guess that i've come a long way. because before i would have either popped up at his place, because i bike very near it so often, or would have put the record i got in his mailslot or something equally insane.
and so i waited. and heard nothing.
i don't know what i'll end up doing with the record. i bought two, because even though i don't have a record player, i wanted it. it was a super special edition, and there were only a few left. and i got a tour ep in a handmade case as well. they always have awesome merch, because they only sell their tour eps on the road. i was really excited to have exactly enough money to get all three things.
and wasn't really mad about the joey thing. i wish it could be that his phone is broken, because it was well on its way there. but i know it's not, because it didn't go straight to voicemail.
whatever. he'll pop up again some day. or he won't.
it bothered me a lot on friday. and a little on saturday.
but the show was AMAZING. i almost went alone, because i've never gone to a show alone and not met up with someone there. but i'm glad i didn't, because there weren't actual tickets, so i would have had to meet someone outside the place, and take them in with me. i don't know.
choosing to ask mike was the best idea. he had never heard of them, and ended up loving them. we walked in, and this fucking hideous band was opening for them. i mean, i left halfway through their set because i couldn't deal variety of awful.
but we walked in and bought a beer, and gave the band a listen. and i look up to mike's left. and rob crow is just standing there, kinda being into the band. head nodding, and all.
it seemed so unlikely that i was convinced i was wrong about him. i wanted to say hi and thank him for being an amazing musician, but my gushy starstruck self probably would have kept going on. and that would have been stupid.
it was so sad, because the last time i saw them, i'd made food for everyone. and met his wife and son. and talked to him for maybe 5 or 10 minutes.
and then he was right next to me, and i was afraid to approach. i already had set myself up for feeling weird, because that last show i watched them play from the side of the stage. being on the spectator end of things is a far cry from being behind the scenes. ever was good for green room access, and i met some amazing musicians in the days i spent with him.
the show was so incredible, that the disappointed feeling only lasted for that little window of time. they played so many songs. and only two the whole night that i didn't know. their encore was five songs long. which is just unheard of. it was the best. i love them so much, and live, they are really fantastic. and they played my absolute favorite song. which i managed to record in its entirety on my phone.
and then it was over, and we were zipping from one end of the city home, listening to mobb deep and gza on mike's phone, through the middle of the city on a saturday night. drunk people loud and everywhere.
and i got home, and turned off the computer at maybe 130. and was up until 4. so gross.
woke up sunday, feeling pretty good somehow. i'd slept until 1130, had just enough time to pound a big ass mason jar of iced coffee, get a shower and get ready for my date.
so. finally. sam.
i think this date took about a month and a half to set up. and i was running behind yesterday, so i didn't mind that he was, too.
he asked if i wanted to meet him on time, or if i'd rather he be an hour late with a bike.
so i said hour late with a bike. and gave miss breezy a bath.
it was awesome. first bike wash in three years. i practically detailed her. all but the spit shine on her chrome.
i took a little soft sponge and took about 45 minutes cleaning her. between the spokes and all. then windexed all the chrome, and hand dried her.
it was funny. it's funny to write about her as a her. but that's how i feel. she's a she. and she was happy.
when he said he was ready and leaving the town where he lives, i started biking. i knew i'd have some time before he got there, and knew i wanted to take pictures, because it's always pretty.
and yesterday was the best possible day for biking. it was not even 70. and it was overcast. there was no hot sun to beam down. and the wind wasn't bad, so there was no extra work to do against it. and by the time we finally met up, it was two hours after we'd originally planned to meet. and we just got right on the path after hugging hello. and talked while we dodged a thick crowd of people along boathouse row.
there was a regatta that had just ended, looked to be high school kids, and i had the chance to explain my limited knowledge of rowing to him.
i have realized that, due to my casual approach, i wasn't nervous at all waiting for him. and i think he was nervous about me, because the first fifteen or so minutes were highly concentrated with slang that made him sound dumb. and i thought, hmm... this might not have been the best idea.
he was adorable. and short like i like them. he looked exactly as he had presented himself online, which was a relief, as i didn't recognize geoff when he walked up to me. i knew sam right away.
but as we settled in and talked side by side on the bike path, he talked about things he knew, and the slang disappeared.
and we biked out about 5 miles. i'd already ridden 4 from my house at a slow clip, so as to not wear myself out before the date even started.
and about halfway down the path, i saw a familiar face. and he was smiling at me. and it was CATERPILLAR.
and i waved and said, 'hi, caterpillar!' enthusiastically. and he waved back and rode past. he was alone. i was glad that troll wasn't with him. or the trollop, as kim and pam call her. we haven't seen her with him lately, and i thought that seeing him alone would make for a nice little bit of conversation tomorrow.
had i been alone? i would have about faced and joined him. alas, i was not alone. note to self...
back to it.
we got to the end of the path. not the actual end, but where the construction had ended it for us. and we happened to be in manayunk. and i looked to my left, and saw that i was somehow in familiar territory, at the split in the road for main street. so i said we should grab a beer and a snack at the brewery.
and he was totally into it, so we did.
and i know it was a good idea. the food we picked was absolutely perfect. we ate everything, sharing, and weren't too full to bike back. it was great.
but our server sucked ASS. she didn't come by for a while, maybe ten minutes. then took our orders. and the food came out pretty quickly, because they were appetizers. and our beer was still missing maybe fifteen minutes after that. no water. nothing. which wouldn't have been bad if we hadn't just biked kinda far to get there.
and i finally grabbed another server and said we were looking for our server, who had our beers. she popped up like five minutes later. our food was halfway gone, because we were afraid to eat without drinks. it was just awful.
and when she remembered us and we finally got our beers, i thought maybe we'd get free drinks out of it. but we didn't. and, the kicker was, she brought him the wrong beer.
but times like that show a person's true colors. and he was as cool as i was, despite the situation. which was a relief. because i was about to have a mini freakout.
i'd guess we were there for an hour. they were playing reggae, we sat outside on the river because it was so nice out. and talked a lot more.
online, we noted shared musical interests, and i was pretty blown away when he said he had an extra ticket to see beirut in jersey, outside of new york city, in a theater. and asked if i'd like to go. problem was, i am already double booked that day. friday the 13th. otherwise, i'd have been all over it.
that opened a can of musical worms, where we went back and forth for the rest of the time we spent there.
and then we were biking back. and the way back is always so much faster. we got back to the place where he'd parked and had cigarettes, the first since we'd met up. i couldn't remember if he smoked, and he couldn't remember if i did. but he'd had his last one on the way there, so he bummed one. and we talked about what we could do the next time we hang out.
and decided a picnic lunch in fairmount park would be fun, and he offered to teach me frisbee golf. and i told him i've been pretty busy, but that maybe in a couple weeks we could make that happen.
it's so funny with boys. like, comparative shopping. no one is as cool as matthew yet, but geoff was fun to talk to. and sam was glad and relieved that i was into biking, and we had a super chill, laidback bicycle date that ended much better than i thought it would in the first ten minutes.
everything went well. i only had to stop to blow my nose a couple times. not bad, considering we were on a path that didn't feel like the city at all. everything was in bloom.
i hugged him goodbye, and had the feeling that he probably wanted to make out. but i kissed him on the lips and said goodbye. he offered to give me a ride home, but i told him i was into biking it. so i did.
20.25 miles, all told. i felt FANTASTIC.
contractor was working at his bar, and said i should swing by with my deck measurements for a beer on the way, so i did.
and in that beer, some of my dreams were dashed. as quickly as he'd told me that building the deck would be a lot less expensive than i thought, we started adding up the cost of the supplies. and they were right at $2000. and the labor would be about $2500.
and i just couldn't justify spending that kind of money, and said i didn't think i could swing it.
and biked home, at sunset. about three blocks from the house, the streetlights came on.
it was a great day. i had a lot of fun with sam, and even though the deck got sidelined, we decided to put a window in, and a functional door. and that i can hang on the roof for a couple years before worrying about a new roof and the deck that will someday have to protect it.
bittersweet. but sensible.
so we'll go back to the list of things that are much less fun than a deck, but also more important than the deck. and today i thought that maybe we could put stairs up to the third floor roof, because the deck would be half the size. and that i could swing. that's the view i want anyway...
we'll see what he says about it.
aside from that, aubree is now three short days from moving in. and i am beside myself with excitement.
mom and dad have been in a rough patch because of it. and i'm hoping that they can get excited for her (and me) soon, so that it doesn't feel like such a selfish bad thing that i did.
i guess that, from the talk i had with mom for over an hour a few days ago, what i'm left with is this:
mom and dad are super sad that, instead of having both of us home for the entire summer, they now get neither of us for the entire summer.
and i get it. yeah, i'd love to have sold the house, be sitting on a gigantic pile of cash like i thought i would be by now, and be going home for the whole summer. to sit and float in the pool and shun all my responsibilities. to not work, to just BE. and i'm sure that aubree feels the same way. she'd rather be around everyone and having an easy internship with the doctor she's been shadowing for the last year in surgery.
but i really know, without a doubt, that she is getting a once in a lifetime opportunity. and i'm thinking about her future, despite the fact that it started out being a way to not be in this house alone all summer.
i love my sister. i cannot wait for her to be here. where she can be herself, not an asexual version of herself. where people won't judge her. where she won't have to live a double life. i'll be the best distraction for her, with her girlfriend continents away, to quickly pass three months of what will be a life-changingly long year. to give her a place away from distractions to study for the mcats.
i just want her to see that there's so much more to life than florida. and so much more to living than doing what other people want you to do. my goal is to never put any pressure on her to be anywhere or do anything that isn't mandatory.
i'm not afraid to bust her chops about studying for the mcats, because she'll need that. and i'm not afraid to take her out here, too. but we have all summer for that.
i'm just hoping to give her a healthy environment. and i don't know what i'll get out of it, besides having too much fun with one of my absolute favorite people. i know i will learn a lot from her. and i know that having her around is going to be good for me.
but aside from that, i just want her here.
it's blowing my mind that the star party i've been waiting for since last year is now right around the corner. it's this month. it's in 24 days. i can't get over it.
and i'm excited to teach aubree what little tiny bit i know out there, and to be able to share that with her. it really changed my life, and though she is not as inclined to stargaze as i am, she's genuinely excited about going, and i think she'll at least have some sort of a spiritual experience up there. and, like i did, make peace with the things in her life that she can't control, and come back feeling better about her decisions, and excited and inspired.
it's going to be awesome.
and aside from that, nina gets here in 69 days. the number of days keep shrinking, and i keep getting more and more excited for our week of awesomeness. seems like i was just saying 86, and then 74.
and i had a great trip to my shrink today, who made me feel even more confident when i left, about the way i've been feeling and thinking and handling things. i was afraid to go, as i always am, afraid to cry, as i always am. and not only was it not scary, it wasn't a cryfest. and i talked more than i have the other visits, giving her less time to put together questions. there was no silence today.
and i left feeling lighter. it was a good day.
i feel better about joey today, i guess i've decided that it was great. and if that is all the time i get, i will be disappointed. but not heartbroken.
and maybe things with matthew will be better when we hopefully meet up on wednesday instead of thursday, when my sister gets here. maybe we'll both be less tired. and maybe he'll be a little more excited to see me. and maybe i'll have the balls to tell him that i really enjoy our two hour makeout sessions. and that i really enjoy the sex, too. and that what i would enjoy most? that would be having both.
in telling nina about it yesterday, i realized what frustrates me.
i need the making out to be turned on. and i need the sex to immediately follow if there is any hope for me overcoming my five year obstacle.
and he doesn't know about my five year obstacle. and i've never said either of those things to him in a way that would demand a serious response, because we tend to just have fun and give each other a lot of shit when we hang out.
but i don't want to skip the making out. and i don't want to skip the sex. and if he's not as driven as i am, that's fine. but i can go into our time together knowing what i'm getting into.
the only time i wasn't doing those two things with him was the sunday brunch date. and that was my favorite date with him. so i'm not saying that i can't have wholesome fun with him. i just prefer the wholesome bits followed by the naughty bits.
life with less stress, and letting go of the things that have been upsetting me in a lot of the aspects of my life have given me an appetite back. and all the exercise i've been getting have made me need to eat more. i'm feeling better about myself. now if i can just start eating vegetables, i'll pretty much have myself back to a place where i feel like i'm doing things mostly right.
i haven't been writing here, because that last post really consumed me for a few days. a lot happened, but i have this feeling now, like most of it is irrelevant. and yesterday, waiting for sam, i did something i haven't done in a very long time. i pulled out my sketchbook, and drew my surroundings for about five minutes until he got there. i've been so much better at photo documenting the nature and scenery of my life. not necessarily the people i spend so much time with. but drawing at the steps of the art museum was a great way to spend my time, as opposed to killing it.
and today, i don't feel the need to have the crazy highs. because they're usually followed by the crazy lows. today was a day of leveling out. recovering, even. and rebounding.
everything is going to be okay. and i think i'm exhausted enough to try to get some sleep. which i need. desperately.
tomorrow i have a date. it's a date i'm really excited about...
i haven't seen alice in so long that i can't remember the last time. and i asked her for a date last week, and she gave me tomorrow.
i hope that she makes it. we don't know what each other has been up to, and a reconnection is in order.
i also get to see lauren, who used to work with me. she biked to austin from here, and is in town for the court case stemming from over a year ago, when she was hit by a car on her bike. to try to recoup her hospital bill money, and said that as long as she gets her three front teeth fixed properly, she won't care what she gets beyond that.
she's a tough kid. i hope i get to see her as well...
i spent my afternoon, post-shrink, cooking and baking. on basement house day, i'd promised contractor a home cooked meal. enchiladas, a family favorite that mom makes for our birthdays, based on what he likes.
it takes about four hours to prepare them, because the tortillas are made from scratch, like the rest of the recipe. the last time i made them was last april, when the writer came to town, and i made them for him and his band friends.
it took over a month to make the time to prep them for contractor, and i don't know when he'll get to eat them, but they're all but made up. i don't like making empty promises. and it felt good to cross that off the unofficial house list.
and then, i spent an hour after that making my favorite chocolate chip cookie recipe. and i used four pans, two of which were mine from living here with ever. and the cookies on those pans burned on the bottom. blackened sugar, stuck to the pans. i pried them off with a pizza cutter, and bagged them for myself, i guess. it made me feel like a mom, who eats the food she burned and gives her kids the best of the batch.
and the two pans that turned out well will be mailed to a couple people who are far away and needing them...
being in my kitchen for all that time, and having more space than i needed felt right. i haven't spent that much time there since i moved back in. i've cooked some. not a lot. but it was a nice long stretch of thinking time. i got to talk to nina and to brownies, and had a lot of time to myself, too. both the boys came home while i worked, and i got to catch up with them as well.
things are falling into place. and just as last week is ending, and this week is getting started, i'll have a few days of quiet and adjustment to life in the middle of the road before aubree gets here and things really ramp up.
here's to life in the middle of the road. sometimes mediocrity is best for everyone. or maybe i'm just speaking for myself...
the easter bunny. april 24th, part 2.
that show was crazy. and we left from there, to go to the house for the most fun slumber party i might have ever thrown.
kim and pam showed up right as we were getting home.
the slumber party for kit almost didn't even happen. and, how awesome that it did...
kit had spent her birthday eve getting fancy. she got her hair done, bought a new coat, and looked killer.
she FELT like she looked killer. in the year and a half that i have known her, aside from star party stuff, i think that night the happiest that i have ever seen her.
i did it all. the cake. the ice cream sundaes. the candy. the gift bag. the sister birthday card that seemed more fitting than any other variety.
we drank. we played. roommate mike and his friend vishnu showed up, adding a layer of hilarity to the night.
i had face mask, and biore strips. we had quite the little party. it raged loudly until 3 am, when we were all too tired to be upright.
kit and i shared a bed, and the girls took the loft. kit was up in bed at 8. i woke up at 930 feeling ill. hungover. nervous. pukey. i got ready and drove kit to her car up in northern libs, and the girls and i went to get fancy.
i got a pedicure and opted for the manicure combo. i hadn't had one since 9th grade homecoming. and we got our eyebrows waxed after our nails were dry.
i left feeling saucy. happy. cracked out. it was an ultimate success and i had time to nap before kit was ready for her party, part two.
matthew was flaking on me. hard. i'd been sexting him in delaware. he made a comment that i'd better have bought him something pricey on my shopping day status update. i texted him, saying that i'd gotten something for him, alright. that pricey was debatable, and that he'd better rest up and hydrate, because i didn't yet know if i was mad or enchanted that he'd withheld sex from me. and that he's better show up good and ready. and when he responded, 'yes, ma'am' i about fell out of my chair, laughing.
so i was trying not to let it bother me, because the night wasn't about me. i'd spent too much money and had opted to eat at home before going out. i tried to nap, but couldn't. it's a theme lately.
so mike and i left a little late, and had yawning battles in the subway station. we missed our train because i took us up the wrong stairs to the el.
we made it eventually, and a lot of people were already there.
somehow it was stressful. i wasn't in charge of any of that party, and it seems like i have been choosing to have control over things in my life in a big way lately. i enjoy calling the shots. matthew has taken to calling me miss bossy, and i don't mind it.
we left from there to go to favorite bar. a big party of us, all taking the city bus in lieu of like five cabs.
we took up the first four rows of the bus. kit was uptight, and not enjoying herself fully at that point. i think the stress of organizing the event, paired with a boy letdown was getting to her. i thought i'd fix it by videotaping the front of the bus, when i started singing happy birthday to her.
our entire party joined, and i'm sure the bus was a little blown away. there was a stop in the middle of the song, with all these people boarding. i don't know. it seemed like the best option at the time. i'm not quite sure if it worked. but it was super fun, and i was happy that i thought to do it.
so we roll up to favorite bar, and i knew for certain that matthew wasn't coming. it had been hours. i knew he was sleeping. and i'd only had two beers to that point, without even achieving a buzz. as we walked in to sidecar, everyone was clapping and telling kit happy birthday. steve walked up with two shots in hand before we even had our coats off.
to keep kit safe, i'd promised her to drink any shots that were poured for her. my exact words were: 'i'll puke for you. you are not drinking liquor.'
so steve handed me the shot of tully. i've never done a shot of whiskey. and i probably never will again. the tully was smooth. don't get me wrong. but it burned like fire.
i was immediately hot and tipsy. and had already ordered a beer that i was less than thrilled with. so i drank it slow.
i had some alone time, smoking, talking to lauren. and some alone time with kit, smoking.
i went back in and checked my phone.
and almost fell out of my chair, part two.
joey texted me. he was having some friends over. he spelled my name wrong (the error being like marcy vs marty), calling me sweet thang. and saying i have to come over. he gave me his address right then.
and i looked at it. and started writing him back. saying that i was out for kit's birthday at favorite bar, which he already knew. and that i was officially drunk (stupid fucking whiskey). and that i would be happy to grab coffee with him the next day if he wanted. but i didn't send it.
what i wanted was advice. what i got was a table full of advice.
i explained how we'd had plans last sunday, and he had double booked himself and canceled with me. how earlier that day, he had called me. i was surprised to see that it was him calling, and answered hesitantly.
he'd explained that shit was fucked up. that he'd gotten a new slew of experiments to run, that his pi wasn't in favor of the paper he'd turned in. that he'd been asked to rewrite it again (draft six by then, draft nine by that night). that he was stressed.
i said something like, 'woah woah woah. dude. calm down. first of all, don't stress. everything is cool. hanging out is not stressful, and shouldn't be stressful. do science. and hit me up later this week to hang out.'
he said, 'but i really want to hang with you.'
and i said that i wanted to hang with him, too. but to knock his shit out, and don't stress about me. it will happen.
he felt really bad. and when i hung up with him, maybe because i talked to him, i told him to hit me up anytime. that we'd work something out. and to just knock his shit out.
i don't know.
i didn't have that awful feeling from last weekend. i had relief instead, i guess. because i was so fucking tired. that nap hadn't panned out, and i knew that by tomorrow, in light of matthew saying he was staying over that night, i'd be exhausted and ready to be alone and get some sleep.
i saw it as a way to open up my day, and take a day for myself like i should.
it was cool. disappointing? yes. but fine regardless.
so it was in that mindset that i dealt with matthew flaking. and again, wound up going, 'you know? i made plans with YOU. and i set time aside for YOU. and two of you are going to bail on me? are you serious?? what the fuck...
so when i saw the text asking me to come over, my mind bounced around. first, i was angry. what? you can't hang with me, but you can have an impromtu party instead? and invite me over to that?
then i thought, shit. he was SHAKING. he must be trying to find a way to have some kind of a group thing where i'm just a person there, not the only person there. bunny slope into the hangout.
so i was on the fence. not to mention, i had plans. and i was out. granted, i had said one beer. and was planning to go home after it. it just meant that i'd go to his home instead of mine.
and i cursed him, for not letting me prepare. i had a stacked ipod to share. i had beer for him. i had cigarettes. i had easter candy to share. and by texting me after midnight, he made it so that i'd have to go over, in contacts, and probably fall asleep in them.
but that was all background. because what i was most concerned about was, if this is a game, and i'm playing it, what are the fucking rules? why do there have to be rules? is it sad/pathetic/lame to be able to drop what i'm doing to go?
so a table of five helped me mull it over. i erased what i'd written to him. and they, at first, were on the side with me, originally. he broke plans and threw a party instead. that's kinda fucked up.
but after i explained the nervous hands from the day he came to talk to me at work, they started to see why i was contemplating going.
not to mention, in my mind, where things do happen for a reason, the fact that matthew had flaked on me, making this an option.
and then i sold them on the fact that i'd been so excited for this hang out that i'd take any incarnation i could get.
back to the easter bunny and zombie jesus thing. this is where i'll attempt to pull it all together:
all that i have faith in is that i have to take opportunities when they arise. and not worry about what might have been or what could be. i am actively working toward a place where i can just BE. in the moment. be here now. and i think daily about how much work it will take to accomplish that feat.
i delayed him while we debated. and said that i was at favorite bar and that i'd try to work some magic, but didn't know if i could pull it off.
and he texted me right back. 'pretty please with sucrose on top!!!'
and i was done for.
his brainy text sealed the deal. and i started to make my exit plan. put lauren in a cab back to her digs, told mike i was leaving, said goodbye to everyone. asked kit if she'd picked up the beer for me, which she hadn't. so i bought a mixed six pack there, and took off. i asked if he'd be willing to walk and meet me, or if he was too busy entertaining to do that.
he said he would. i stopped at 7-11 for a seltzer (i'm back on my old kick of seltzer water right now? i think because i drink so much more, i stay dehydrated, and cannot drink water) and a pack of smokes. because the ten i had at home weren't helping me, leaving the bar with a couple in my pack.
so i walked over to his place.
i was so nervous. it was not far, maybe six blocks. i told him to give me a five minute head start, and he told me to meet him on the corner where he was with his friends.
i saw him from a block away, all six feet, five inches of him. and his guy friend and girl friend were flanking his sides. he introduced them as his puerto rican friend, and his polish friend. they told me their names and went to get cigarettes. i was hoping that they were leaving, just to get him alone, but they weren't.
he hugged me and picked me up, swinging me around, telling me how happy he was that i made it. and i said 'maaaagic' while he spun me. kittens inspired style. i corrected him immediately about my name. and he said 'that's even better', and hugged me sideways, grabbing my arm, and then led me inside.
while they ran to the store, he showed me the rest of building he lives in. a library that was converted into an apartment, where he said we should spend some time hanging out (that night - we didn't end up doing that). another studio apartment. doubly wide staircases. all original woodwork.
it is just an incredible building. huge and airy. built in the 1800s, to be sure, in the fanciest neighborhood here (but not on the park). the highest ceilings, which says a lot coming from me. mine are ten feet, and these dwarfed mine. i'd say easily 18 foot ceilings, at a minimum.
huge built in bookshelves. pink subway tiled bathrooms. huge windows that ran floor to ceiling. it was overwhelming. all the apartments in the building are vacant. and all the doors are unlocked, so he has free reign over hanging out in them, and running around in them, and takes full advantage of it. only one other place in the building is rented out. to a little old hard drinking lady, and her little old husband on the first floor.
then we went into his place on the third floor, and this is when the night got interesting.
do not read that as bad. do not read that as alarming. just read it as 'not what i was expecting'...
so he's a scientist. and i imagined him living alone. which he does. and i knew from his address that his place would be awesome. and it was bigger than i thought. huge ceilings, huge windows with open blinds. a fantastic view of the city from his living room, a fire escape from his bedroom. he had a brown leather couch on one side of the room, a green vinyl chair circa 1972 (he took that - at the record player), and a mini futon chair (i took that). his pitbull (apple) was there. and his friends came back immediately and took the couch, which is where they had been camping out before i showed up.
but in a very unscience-like way, there were beer bottles everywhere, and cigarette butts in ashtrays on both tables. and ash everywhere. he smokes in his living room. so four of us smoking was stifling. the windows were open, but the cool breeze sweeping in didn't help much. he was out of smokes, and asked for one of mine. i put my pack between us, for the evening, telling him he could smoke all he wanted. he ripped the filters off of each one of my ultra lights, as he's a marlboro red kinda guy.
as a smoker, second hand smoke in an enclosed space really gets to me. i acclimated quickly when bars here banned smoking, and still sometimes go outside for smokes when i'm home and can smoke in bars.
but i was cool. it was just messy. dirty. his puppy was a crazy person who had covered every single square inch of his place in dog hair. again, something i'm used to from having a puppy who was a crazy person. but she running around and chewing things up, making us chase her when she'd get something she wasn't supposed to have off the table (you name it - his wood pipe, taryn's glass pipe, empty beer bottles) and ran under the kitchen table with it to chew and play. he chased her when he wasn't tending to records, and i babysat when he was.
i was a little overwhelmed. it reminded me of boys' places in tahoe. where the party never stopped and started, so he never had to clean up. his refrigerator was an abomination. his sink was piled with dishes that weren't specifically dirty, but weren't washed yet.
they all smoked pieces of bowls as the night wore on. i did not, because i'd been drinking. even though i really wanted to.
and we all talked.
he was running around the living room frantically, stopping on occasion to touch my shoulder and tell me to sit and relax. he was all about relaxing. said it like ten times, even though i told him i was relaxed. he was pulling records, setting up songs.
initially, he would stop the song after his favorite part. i kinda couldn't wrap my head around that, but let it slide after giving him shit about it. but eventually he did settle in a little. he was just so into all of it, telling me which he played on, which were friends, show stories. and dancing around and being his usual random self, sporadically blurting out lyrics in time.
and i guess a song or two in, it became records in the dark with friends. i was drinking a liter of seltzer, before my drunkenness faded to a slight buzz. i had two more slow beers sometime between 3 and 5am, i guess.
i wasted no time, sifting through his record collection, noting stuff i love, and appreciating the prettiest packaging. and he high fived me a few times when i commented on something near and dear to his musical heart, playing the stuff that was in pretty packaging, to show that they weren't empty promises. mono was probably my favorite new territory.
adrian knew my house, from the label. he hadn't been inside for a show, but said the label name when i said the corner i lived on, and i said, 'yeah. it's not there anymore. but that is my house.'
taryn totally blew my mind with zero degrees of separation, naming someone in a band that i actually knew. it was wild.
i had to pee about halfway into my seltzer. i didn't know the switch was outside the bathroom door, and fumbled in the dark, panicking when i couldn't find toilet paper. eventually i realized it was behind the curtain covering the window over his fire escape. and took the last three squares.
taryn went after me, and i told her i'd taken the last three squares, so she wouldn't get a surprise, and said that joey's was drip dry. which was just wrong to me. obviously, he doesn't poop at home, and doesn't have girls over often. which was some kind of a relief, as much as it was gross. no toilet paper is a big no no for me. i always check before i go at home. living with two boys who rarely use it has trained me to.
we stayed like that for a few hours, i guess. the four of us, listening to records. i took to calling him dj trainwreck when he reverted back to skipping around songs and dropping the needle in the wrong spot. switching genres violently. one of his favorites was a band of friends of his. so mathy he said you need a calculator to listen. it was one of the funniest things he said all night.
adrian left. taryn stayed a while. it was this situation that felt familiar from 19. one night i'd been hanging out with this boy i'd fucked around with, terence. and he had a girl over. but i didn't care, because his way hotter, way nicer friend azlan was also there. i was way more smitten with azlan, and didn't seem to notice that terence's girl's friend was, too. the three of us hung around a while, while the other two fucked around upstairs, breaking my heart a little. her name was candy. she was a whore, falling for the same line i had. it took about an hour before i realized that azlan was more into the other girl, and that i was the third wheel, not her. and i bailed.
apple woke up from a nap, wound up, and i forgot that she was a pit bull. playing with her meant that my arm became her chew toy. and i have scratches and a gnarly bruise on my arm to prove it. i ended that quickly.
i couldn't figure out if taryn was a friend or someone he was interested in. i only knew that she wasn't with adrian. and she wouldn't leave. ultimate clam jam.
i had to pee again, and said i wanted to go to buy some. he said he wanted to go with me, and taryn followed, despite stating that she was entirely too fucked up to be out and seen anywhere.
on our way down, we went into the library, because he said there's toilet paper in there sometimes. as luck would have it, there was. which was great, because i was at a critical point. i peed, taryn stole the roll after, and we went back up instead of heading to the store.
but instead of stopping at his door, we went up again, so he could show me the roof off the fourth floor apartment. the apartment itself made me long for $1500 a month to blow on it. the kitchen was 1960's era, with a kickass burgundy stove, and those flecked countertops that you see in old diners, lined with silver trim. it was a huge place, the windows were the best in the building. clear glass with molten awesomeness, like stained glass, only with clear glass filling out the design.
we went out onto the roof. we smoked. he sprawled out on what would be the skylights of his apartment bathroom. they were white, not clear, and joined with roof tar, as many in philadelphia buildings are.
the view was fucking mindblowing. i'd left my phone downstairs and kicked myself. being on top of a building in the center of the city within a few blocks of the liberty buildings, which were huge in my view (they're the spiky buildings in every photo of the phila skyline, for those who don't know), was so picturesque. and i missed opportunities.
it was around 4 i guess, and he was sprawled out. i pointed out that a middle button of his shirt was open. running with that, he started at the bottom and unbuttoned his shirt slowly and completely, while he sang a rap song in richard cheese lounge stylings. taryn took a picture and texted it to me then and there, saving me by name in her phone, noting me as 'cool girl', so she wouldn't delete it later.
we talked, finished cigarettes, his song was over, i explored the apartment there. saying i wish that it wasn't more than my mortgage. he said, 'you want to be neighbors? yay!'
i said, 'i wish.'
and meant it. though he'd be HORRIBLE to live above, with all the loud music and movies all hours of the night.
what i've learned in setting stuff up with him is that he works from about 4pm to midnight, when he goes in. he works from home when he writes. his night is getting started as mine is ending. boyfriend material, strike one.
while i'm on it, i'll cover the other strikes. two: he runs out of toilet paper. three: i'd spend time cleaning his place. a LOT of time. four: he self medicates with beer and weed. a LOT. the way he smokes (cigarettes like joints) makes me feel uncomfortable. five: i would inadvertantly get used. i'd foot the bill for shit when he goes through his stipend and comes up short a week before payday. six: his stipend runs out a week before payday. which means he doesn't budget.
i'll give the reasons why he is awesome for other things later in the post. those are the unflattering red flags. i am a smart girl, see? a changed person. who knows what she wants. and more specifically, what she does not.
so we went from the fourth floor back to his place with taryn in tow. and joey and i took to the couch, and started talking. he had his arm around me, and i took a cue and stretched my legs across him. he tickled my knees and touched my legs through my jeans. and i melted a little. i let myself get excited, because with her out of the picture, it was obvious that i was what was on his mind.
the thing that killed me about that night, which i told him, was that i had prepared for my night with him (the next night - the one he had canceled). i had beer, i had cigarettes, i had easter candy for his jewish ass. i had a movie to bring (darjeeling limited). i had my ipod and a short list of ground to cover with it. but, that's the beauty of not being prepared. i was in my skinny jeans and a tee shirt, with hidden furry boots underneath, which was not my plan. and came back to bite me later.
i guess my senses were dulled, because a while passed, talking science and goals and life stuff with him before i realized that taryn had disappeared. i said, 'wait. where's taryn? she didn't leave because she didn't say goodbye.'
and he said that she was probably passed out on his bed, because that happens sometimes when she gets fucked up over there.
we got up and stood in front of his laptop for a minute when he changed music, which was attached to both his speakers and his tv. and his paper was open on the screen, and he clicked on it. he sat on the futon chair and looked at it from there. it's a mac, and things on the bar were bouncing around. he got up to play something else, and i asked why so many icons were begging for his attention, and he opened his paper for me, which was one of the non-bouncing icons.
i asked if that was the paper that was paining him, and he said that he submitted three more drafts before deciding that draft nine was requiring a break. that he was too burnt to make it ten, and invited people over. and said he was so glad that i made it over.
he sat down after i read most of it, and edited it for him (spellcheck).
he came over, showing me his data, explaining what it was. and why it's so exciting to him. again. hot. i'm grateful kit has taught me enough to know what the fuck i was looking at, though it was brain activity instead of t cells and b cells in his tables. he moved to the couch while i read.
and i joined him, after finishing the whole thing. telling him i had no idea what it meant, but that schizophrenia is interesting to me, because of my psych background. we talked about what he's interested in, other than what he does. i asked if he'd ever studied dreams, or done sleep studies. he said not really, but that he's really interested in it.
i had to pee again, and said so, after about half an hour of alone talking time, where he blew my mind talking science. i asked him what he studied, what he's interested in. and he talked at length. science excites him. he loves what he does. i asked him how he ended up in phila as a phd student, from playing in bands in south florida.
and he said he was interested in neurology after getting a b.a. in philosophy, and wonder what happened in the brains of people who become paralyzed. he found a doctor who was the best in what he wanted to study and decided to apply for the spot. and got in.
his intelligence was a turn on. his dedication to science, and being a self starter as far as that goes cranked my desire to eleven.
i was hydrating, what can i say? i broke the seal. i took a break from getting to know him to pee. and that was where it ended, due to circumstance.
i went into his bathroom, to realize before i peed that the toilet paper hadn't made its way out of her purse. and came out, asking him from the bedroom where she was sleeping where it was. we decided it was in her purse. and she woke up with a start from our talking, and said, 'are you guys going to bed? you want me to go?'
to which i gracefully responded, 'no. i just need the toilet paper that is in your purse.'
so i got it. and peed. and when i came out, she was on the couch, after having grabbed another of the beers i brought. which mentally took me back to bbq's when i met conor. all the kids who show up empty-handed and take willingly.
she said, 'i'm going to drink this beer and have a smoke and then go home.'
and i squealed inside. and watched her drink slowly and smoke three cigarettes. he put on a movie after her second.
he said, 'tea. have you seen donny darko?'
and i said, 'no. but i want to.' because i thought it was johnny depp. but figured out quickly that i was confused. maggie gyllenhall made me think of that boy greg who never did message me. fleetingly. i had my eyes literally on the prize. joey sat between us on the couch. she left half an hour into the movie. he let her out, and i stretched out on his couch. he sat down, putting my legs across his lap. i told him to get comfortable. and so it was, that we spooned on the couch and watched the movie.
there was a part of the movie where he is in a shrink's office. and he said 'oh, my childhood. it was like that.' we talked about seeing shrinks for a minute. we both see them now. he's on meds that he didn't specify. and i didn't ask specifics about.
he said something about 1987. and i said, 'wait. what?'
and he said he's 25. coo coo cachoo.
i really thought he was kidding. pam, kim, and i had him pegged as being 30. 29 at the youngest. my mind was blown. i said, 'seriously? no way.'
and he said, 'yep... i'm twenty five' in his deep voice, slowly.
i said, 'holy fuck. do you know how old i am? how old do you think i am?'
he said, 'i don't know. twenty six?'
i laughed and said no.
he said, 'twenty five?'
i said, 'you're going the wrong way, sir.'
he guessed 29, before i said, 'i'm 33.'
he high fived me. again. and said, 'fuck yeah.'
which cracked me up. and he said, 'the last chick i dated was a 38 year old korean bartender.'
which did two things. it made me think, 'he is dating me, in his mind.' which was a relief.
and it made me think, 'is he going to refer to me as the german from now on?'
and curled up, his hands started to wander. first, around me. resting on my belly, full of a mix of bar food from kit's birthday party.
i'll revert here to chalk like description here. it's too good not to. soft porn for the masses. not at all ladylike. but, taking a note from that dog., i say 'i don't care if you don't treat me like a lady. just take me home and don't disobey me.'
prudes, cover your eyes. or just skip to the end and work your way up.
my arm was under him, so that my hand was in his hair. and i touched him as lightly as i could, head, hair, neck. and tracing his ears. he was squirming. it set me off.
in my mind, it was sealed. at least a makeout session, which was all i'd gone over hoping for, and expecting.
his hands wandered to other places that weren't nearly as pc. and i was a little surprised that he hadn't even tried to kiss me yet. i giggled, and my head backwards to kiss him.
and kissing him. holy fuck it was good. very passionate. different from the other boys i've kissed. he has a crazy beard, for starters.
after a minute of craning my neck, we were facing each other, wriggling and squirming. and that is when the skinny jeans came back to bite me in the ass.
it was some kind of struggle to get out of them. clothes were being tossed on the floor quickly. making out ensued. and then we were naked, about halfway through the movie. and in my ear, he said 'i want to tear you apart.'
it did things to me. god, it was hot. and i said, 'wrap it up, (last name). let's go.'
and he was a little thrown off by it.
how it is that these boys don't give a fuck about who they're sticking their penises into, whether they could become fathers as a result, just blows my fucking mind.
i've talked to my friends enough about it to know that if i want to know i'm protected, it's all about my preparedness.
and he was no exception.
don't get me wrong. i know that fucking without a layer of inconvenience in the heat of the moment could very well be what creates my blockade. but i will not risk it. i'm not on birth control specifically to keep myself honest. specifically to force myself to be careful. because the boys throw caution to the wind.
anyways, he got up to do as i said, and on his way out of the room said, 'i'm clean if that's what you're worried about', but he was back as i said, 'no. that's not it.'
and i wasted no more time trying to talk logistics.
and taking a note from matthew, asking why i got divorced while our bodies were locked, this one said, 'i have wanted to do this since i met you two years ago.'
and i said, 'i know. me, too.'
and he asked why i didn't do anything, and i said because i couldn't. without explaining. that talk will come on the second date, as it did with matthew. so as to set the record straight. and so as to not mince words about what i'm looking for with him.
and he made a joke about letting the girls handle it for me. and i laughed, and then it was 45 minutes or maybe an hour of exhibitionist fucking. because of his windows. and because the sun was coming up while we got down. anyone who was awake and looking out their window across the street would have caught so much more than an eyeful.
it was incredible. it was so good. he is fantastic. i studied him closely. kissed him at all the right times. it was amazing.
at one point, maybe half an hour in, he apologized.
i asked why on earth he would be apologizing. he said it was because of that pesky layer, and i said that it was better than fine. i was in no rush.
and somehow i missed the part where he finished. i was just moving around, because i needed to, and when he thanked me, i realized that he had finished.
i was in no physical condition to get off. so it didn't bother me at all. i asked him, and he said yes. i asked how i had missed it. and he said that medication makes things difficult for him, but that i'd managed to make that not a problem. and we high fived. again. which just proved to me how perfect he is, as far as fuck buddies go. if you can't high five after a good fuck, then what the shit is the point of doing it at all?
he told me he liked the way i'm put together as he moved to the futon chair. i stretched out on the couch in my underwear to finish the movie we'd taken a giant break from.
he made a noise of approval. i said, 'you should be proud. this is the first time i've worn this brand new underwear.'
somehow i figured out what i'd missed with the movie, and he complimented me, saying that all i'd missed was the stuff that explained the beginning and the end to stupid people. that i was smart for knowing what i'd missed. and that i'd seen what i came to see, and missed the fluff.
we smoked like that, and the movie ended. and i followed him to his bed. he said, 'and now you have to go to work?'
i said no, that i'm off weekends. but that if he was kicking me out to sleep, i'd understand. he said no way, and pulled back the covers.
apple had destroyed the lone partial roll of toilet paper at some point after the last time i peed. there was toilet paper confetti covering his bed and floor completely. i said it looked like a fucking parade, and went to pee. he handed me a small pile of the biggest collective pieces.
and he curled up with me. it was 7. and i feared that i wouldn't sleep at all. but underestimated the dull effect of marathon drinking for twelve hours. and being completely physically exhausted from fucking.
he said, 'sorry. apple ate my pillows. i just have a blanket that i use, and it smells like dog.'
there was pillow stuffing to prove his story, and i didn't mind that the blanket smelled like her. it reminded me of the years i spent with a marital bed that always smelled like puppy daughter. and because he put his arm under me and cradled my head, there was nothing offensive or uncomfortable about it.
i told him it was funny. i said, 'i see that. and i like it.'
and i meant it. dog lovers will understand. the rest of you can't. it felt like home, in a way. an old comfortable, familiar home.
i laid there, and took two pictures of his bedroom door to the fire escape in the sunrise after he fell asleep. and shortly thereafter, i fell asleep, and slept so well i shocked myself. but woke up with a start at 947 am, and knew that it was over. the night was over. the morning was over. and i knew that if i didn't get up then, i'd have a coffee migraine within the hour. and that i'd slept with my contacts in and had to get them out of my eyes.
i felt pickled, despite sharing mugs of water with him during and after sex and before sleep. and i kissed his neck to see if i could stir him. and he sighed and said hi, but wasn't budging. i got dressed and gathered my things while he slept, and went in. i bent over him, and kissed his neck, telling him in a whisper that i had to go. that i hated to leave, and wished i could stay, but that i had to go home.
i don't remember parting words, was glad i remembered my phone i'd left charging before the sex. and in caregiver fashion, put not one, but two, cigarettes on his record player and let myself out. texting him from the street to tell him they were there, and that my lighter must be, too, because i walked for about ten blocks before finding a guy who had a lighter.
it was my first walk of shame.
and as matthew said to me, after that first night, 'there was no shame in that.'
i felt disgusting, physically. i was sweaty and dirty. i was sleep deprived from getting a total of 6 hours of sleep over the past 72. i didn't want to be in my clothes from the night before, but had no options. they were smoke soaked.
it was steamy hot. the high was to be 80, but at 65, it felt like it was in the eighties. because i'd left for the party at night, i had no sunglasses, and the sun was beaming. and my eyes were particularly sensitive because my contacts were glued to them from sleeping in them. i was carrying my coat and my scarf, a telltale sign of the morning after walk home. with an unlit cigarette hanging out of my mouth, in search of a source of flame. and my hair was wild, due to a lack of a ponytail holder to keep it on lockdown.
a cop passed me more than once, and i wondered each time if i looked suspicious enough to be stopped and accused of looking like a hooker walking home after a rough night.
i knew i didn't really. i think it was my mind's way of hashing out the stuff in my head. it was a paranoid fleeting thought.
kit happened to text me as i walked within three blocks of her house, looking for a cab or a city bus, whichever came first. she reminded me that buses are impossible on sundays, much less easter sundays. and i had a smoke with her, while she talked about what happened after i left her party for joey's. and i told her a very abbreviated story of what i'd done. and walked her to favorite bar brunch on my way home.
i saw two cabs, both with customers in them. and the bus rolled past me exactly at the stop where i'd have gotten off to go home.
i'd smoked three cigarettes on the way. not because i wanted them, but because one got me out of my old neighborhood, one got me through the hood, and one because i'd be done and home after it.
i have never felt so tired and hungover and gross as i did right then. it took a momentus amount of effort to just pick pajamas and get everything into the bathroom that i needed to shower and neti and get into bed.
i felt great after my shower, giddy from telling kim and pam that i'd gone over. because the last they'd heard was that he'd canceled. they were more floored than i was that i'd had sex with him.
pam called me a whore, because that's what she does. and kim said, 'fly little bird fly' after i thanked her for being the reason i was there in the first place, and thanked her for looking out for my vag.
also something that we say to each other regularly.
i fucking LOVE those girls.
it will be interesting to see when joey shows his face next. and what he says to them, how they react to him, and if i'm there, what the fuck will even HAPPEN.
as i climbed into bed, poor matthew texted me 'brunch or no?'
and i had a mix of feelings about it. how his one stupid flake out resulted in him sharing me with another boy. how i owed him almost as much gratitude as the girls, for buttering joey up for me. i owed him for letting me cash in.
and i said i couldn't, that i was going to sleep because i'd had three hours the night before and was too tired. told him to hit me up at night, if he wanted to.
i passed out. i actually napped. and i woke up feeling fantastic, which NEVER happens. i wrote and laid in bed and watched the end of the movie.
i talked to my parents for an hour last night. not realizing until it was too late that joey had called me while i was on the phone with them. that's what i get for not being rude and making them hold while i scoped it out.
while i was sleeping, he'd sent a text that simply said, 'thanks for the smokes and the good times.'
what a gentleman.
we went back and forth a bit, he apologized for not having coffee to make for me. and i blubbered about all the reasons i left. and told him next time, he's coming over to enjoy my deck and my music. and time passed. and he randomly texted me, 'yesterday was pretty awesome.'
which is still making me smile.
and i busted his chops, 'see? and you were gonna wait another whole week. pshaw.'
when i saw he called an hour afterwards, i texted him, but he didn't call me back.
i didn't hear from matthew until this afternoon, when i texted him about the wedding.
it's a night wedding. so i'm not going to be his date. i told him that if it was anyone other than my favorite band, i would sell my tickets. but that i can't miss the show.
and when he responded that he had his feelers out for my understudy, i both laughed and felt awesome. i was his first choice. and he took it like a champ.
good things, all the way around.
i ate two sandwiches at work today. a club first, a mozzarella pesto melted flatbread second.
and now? nachos. and birthday cake. with beer.
it's not easy being a rockstar. scary skinny tea says i'm allowed. in fact, she needs it. she's a demanding little bitch, that one. and right now? she's FULL.
i smoked another pack of cigarettes in a day for the second day in a row during the second half of birthday festivities combined with joey night. and vowed to change my ways.
i spent two days in a row drinking incessantly - endurance drinking, where i didn't even have a buzz for the majority of the time i was imbibing. for ten or more hours at a time. also not okay. feeling pickled makes me want to check into a rehab center. but not every weekend is a birthday weekend, so i'm letting this one slide. there just can't be more in my near future. i don't want to be pickled again until nina is here with me.
i write, from beer number three. saying as it's midnight, and i had the first one at 6, i am fine with it.
what an insane weekend. so much fun on friday. disappointment and frustration on saturday. until accomplishing joey. and then that aftermath. sorting it all out in my head, and finally having a fucking night to write it all out.
kit pointed it out to me yesterday: the way i feel about seeing more than one person at once is uncomfortable to me, because i feel like i have to pick one. to choose. to make some kind of a choice.
and the beauty of dating is that you don't have to choose at all. you can choose who you spend more time with, sure. and that is based on who you want to see more. but that's not a definitive choice. it might change daily. one person's time might be more limited than someone else's. for me, that factors in greatly.
but i don't have to figure out who i want to spend time with. because, as i told joey when he called and we talked, when he canceled, 'i like to fly by the seat of my pants.'
if i'm available, maybe. if i'm tired, no way. and if i'm with someone else, the decision has already been made. pretty soon it will be second nature, and won't cause me anguish and heartache. the fear of making the wrong decision. always wanting something more or something different, or something better.
i am so fucking glad to have the day off from work tomorrow to get shit done at the house.
i can't wait until i'm on the other side of tomorrow. with a big push toward having so much shit done before my family gets here. aubree starts her internship in two weeks. it's blowing my mind. she should be here in the next ten days.
back to boys. of course...
it's funny. matthew did me a huge favor by flaking on me. because now i sorted out something (joey) that would have continued to stress me out until we finally met up. and now my mind is free from worry, because the list he is at the top of is very different from the one that scares the piss out of me.
maybe matthew will be my boyfriend after i fuck my way through a pile of dudes. if he puts up with it. if he decides i'm worth it, and i get it out of my system.
and in the meantime, when joey asks me to hang out with him, i'm all over it. because he's chalk grade fucking. with the same set of mental pathways on my end. there's no draw to care about him as more than a friend. no squishy feelings. just wanting more of saturday night, that was actually completely sunday morning.
i'm categorizing. i'm boxing boys into their nifty little cubbies. like an assembly line. a slow moving, sparse one. i keep waiting for the hopper to drop the next boy down to me, where i'm waiting at the end of the line.
next... shuffle... sort... next....
and because this weekend is now open without the wedding on the horizon, i'm going to text sam about a hangout. finally. actually, i stopped typing to do it. now i will wait and see what he says.
another 25 year old. now that my feet are all wet...
kim and pam showed up right as we were getting home.
the slumber party for kit almost didn't even happen. and, how awesome that it did...
kit had spent her birthday eve getting fancy. she got her hair done, bought a new coat, and looked killer.
she FELT like she looked killer. in the year and a half that i have known her, aside from star party stuff, i think that night the happiest that i have ever seen her.
i did it all. the cake. the ice cream sundaes. the candy. the gift bag. the sister birthday card that seemed more fitting than any other variety.
we drank. we played. roommate mike and his friend vishnu showed up, adding a layer of hilarity to the night.
i had face mask, and biore strips. we had quite the little party. it raged loudly until 3 am, when we were all too tired to be upright.
kit and i shared a bed, and the girls took the loft. kit was up in bed at 8. i woke up at 930 feeling ill. hungover. nervous. pukey. i got ready and drove kit to her car up in northern libs, and the girls and i went to get fancy.
i got a pedicure and opted for the manicure combo. i hadn't had one since 9th grade homecoming. and we got our eyebrows waxed after our nails were dry.
i left feeling saucy. happy. cracked out. it was an ultimate success and i had time to nap before kit was ready for her party, part two.
matthew was flaking on me. hard. i'd been sexting him in delaware. he made a comment that i'd better have bought him something pricey on my shopping day status update. i texted him, saying that i'd gotten something for him, alright. that pricey was debatable, and that he'd better rest up and hydrate, because i didn't yet know if i was mad or enchanted that he'd withheld sex from me. and that he's better show up good and ready. and when he responded, 'yes, ma'am' i about fell out of my chair, laughing.
so i was trying not to let it bother me, because the night wasn't about me. i'd spent too much money and had opted to eat at home before going out. i tried to nap, but couldn't. it's a theme lately.
so mike and i left a little late, and had yawning battles in the subway station. we missed our train because i took us up the wrong stairs to the el.
we made it eventually, and a lot of people were already there.
somehow it was stressful. i wasn't in charge of any of that party, and it seems like i have been choosing to have control over things in my life in a big way lately. i enjoy calling the shots. matthew has taken to calling me miss bossy, and i don't mind it.
we left from there to go to favorite bar. a big party of us, all taking the city bus in lieu of like five cabs.
we took up the first four rows of the bus. kit was uptight, and not enjoying herself fully at that point. i think the stress of organizing the event, paired with a boy letdown was getting to her. i thought i'd fix it by videotaping the front of the bus, when i started singing happy birthday to her.
our entire party joined, and i'm sure the bus was a little blown away. there was a stop in the middle of the song, with all these people boarding. i don't know. it seemed like the best option at the time. i'm not quite sure if it worked. but it was super fun, and i was happy that i thought to do it.
so we roll up to favorite bar, and i knew for certain that matthew wasn't coming. it had been hours. i knew he was sleeping. and i'd only had two beers to that point, without even achieving a buzz. as we walked in to sidecar, everyone was clapping and telling kit happy birthday. steve walked up with two shots in hand before we even had our coats off.
to keep kit safe, i'd promised her to drink any shots that were poured for her. my exact words were: 'i'll puke for you. you are not drinking liquor.'
so steve handed me the shot of tully. i've never done a shot of whiskey. and i probably never will again. the tully was smooth. don't get me wrong. but it burned like fire.
i was immediately hot and tipsy. and had already ordered a beer that i was less than thrilled with. so i drank it slow.
i had some alone time, smoking, talking to lauren. and some alone time with kit, smoking.
i went back in and checked my phone.
and almost fell out of my chair, part two.
joey texted me. he was having some friends over. he spelled my name wrong (the error being like marcy vs marty), calling me sweet thang. and saying i have to come over. he gave me his address right then.
and i looked at it. and started writing him back. saying that i was out for kit's birthday at favorite bar, which he already knew. and that i was officially drunk (stupid fucking whiskey). and that i would be happy to grab coffee with him the next day if he wanted. but i didn't send it.
what i wanted was advice. what i got was a table full of advice.
i explained how we'd had plans last sunday, and he had double booked himself and canceled with me. how earlier that day, he had called me. i was surprised to see that it was him calling, and answered hesitantly.
he'd explained that shit was fucked up. that he'd gotten a new slew of experiments to run, that his pi wasn't in favor of the paper he'd turned in. that he'd been asked to rewrite it again (draft six by then, draft nine by that night). that he was stressed.
i said something like, 'woah woah woah. dude. calm down. first of all, don't stress. everything is cool. hanging out is not stressful, and shouldn't be stressful. do science. and hit me up later this week to hang out.'
he said, 'but i really want to hang with you.'
and i said that i wanted to hang with him, too. but to knock his shit out, and don't stress about me. it will happen.
he felt really bad. and when i hung up with him, maybe because i talked to him, i told him to hit me up anytime. that we'd work something out. and to just knock his shit out.
i don't know.
i didn't have that awful feeling from last weekend. i had relief instead, i guess. because i was so fucking tired. that nap hadn't panned out, and i knew that by tomorrow, in light of matthew saying he was staying over that night, i'd be exhausted and ready to be alone and get some sleep.
i saw it as a way to open up my day, and take a day for myself like i should.
it was cool. disappointing? yes. but fine regardless.
so it was in that mindset that i dealt with matthew flaking. and again, wound up going, 'you know? i made plans with YOU. and i set time aside for YOU. and two of you are going to bail on me? are you serious?? what the fuck...
so when i saw the text asking me to come over, my mind bounced around. first, i was angry. what? you can't hang with me, but you can have an impromtu party instead? and invite me over to that?
then i thought, shit. he was SHAKING. he must be trying to find a way to have some kind of a group thing where i'm just a person there, not the only person there. bunny slope into the hangout.
so i was on the fence. not to mention, i had plans. and i was out. granted, i had said one beer. and was planning to go home after it. it just meant that i'd go to his home instead of mine.
and i cursed him, for not letting me prepare. i had a stacked ipod to share. i had beer for him. i had cigarettes. i had easter candy to share. and by texting me after midnight, he made it so that i'd have to go over, in contacts, and probably fall asleep in them.
but that was all background. because what i was most concerned about was, if this is a game, and i'm playing it, what are the fucking rules? why do there have to be rules? is it sad/pathetic/lame to be able to drop what i'm doing to go?
so a table of five helped me mull it over. i erased what i'd written to him. and they, at first, were on the side with me, originally. he broke plans and threw a party instead. that's kinda fucked up.
but after i explained the nervous hands from the day he came to talk to me at work, they started to see why i was contemplating going.
not to mention, in my mind, where things do happen for a reason, the fact that matthew had flaked on me, making this an option.
and then i sold them on the fact that i'd been so excited for this hang out that i'd take any incarnation i could get.
back to the easter bunny and zombie jesus thing. this is where i'll attempt to pull it all together:
all that i have faith in is that i have to take opportunities when they arise. and not worry about what might have been or what could be. i am actively working toward a place where i can just BE. in the moment. be here now. and i think daily about how much work it will take to accomplish that feat.
i delayed him while we debated. and said that i was at favorite bar and that i'd try to work some magic, but didn't know if i could pull it off.
and he texted me right back. 'pretty please with sucrose on top!!!'
and i was done for.
his brainy text sealed the deal. and i started to make my exit plan. put lauren in a cab back to her digs, told mike i was leaving, said goodbye to everyone. asked kit if she'd picked up the beer for me, which she hadn't. so i bought a mixed six pack there, and took off. i asked if he'd be willing to walk and meet me, or if he was too busy entertaining to do that.
he said he would. i stopped at 7-11 for a seltzer (i'm back on my old kick of seltzer water right now? i think because i drink so much more, i stay dehydrated, and cannot drink water) and a pack of smokes. because the ten i had at home weren't helping me, leaving the bar with a couple in my pack.
so i walked over to his place.
i was so nervous. it was not far, maybe six blocks. i told him to give me a five minute head start, and he told me to meet him on the corner where he was with his friends.
i saw him from a block away, all six feet, five inches of him. and his guy friend and girl friend were flanking his sides. he introduced them as his puerto rican friend, and his polish friend. they told me their names and went to get cigarettes. i was hoping that they were leaving, just to get him alone, but they weren't.
he hugged me and picked me up, swinging me around, telling me how happy he was that i made it. and i said 'maaaagic' while he spun me. kittens inspired style. i corrected him immediately about my name. and he said 'that's even better', and hugged me sideways, grabbing my arm, and then led me inside.
while they ran to the store, he showed me the rest of building he lives in. a library that was converted into an apartment, where he said we should spend some time hanging out (that night - we didn't end up doing that). another studio apartment. doubly wide staircases. all original woodwork.
it is just an incredible building. huge and airy. built in the 1800s, to be sure, in the fanciest neighborhood here (but not on the park). the highest ceilings, which says a lot coming from me. mine are ten feet, and these dwarfed mine. i'd say easily 18 foot ceilings, at a minimum.
huge built in bookshelves. pink subway tiled bathrooms. huge windows that ran floor to ceiling. it was overwhelming. all the apartments in the building are vacant. and all the doors are unlocked, so he has free reign over hanging out in them, and running around in them, and takes full advantage of it. only one other place in the building is rented out. to a little old hard drinking lady, and her little old husband on the first floor.
then we went into his place on the third floor, and this is when the night got interesting.
do not read that as bad. do not read that as alarming. just read it as 'not what i was expecting'...
so he's a scientist. and i imagined him living alone. which he does. and i knew from his address that his place would be awesome. and it was bigger than i thought. huge ceilings, huge windows with open blinds. a fantastic view of the city from his living room, a fire escape from his bedroom. he had a brown leather couch on one side of the room, a green vinyl chair circa 1972 (he took that - at the record player), and a mini futon chair (i took that). his pitbull (apple) was there. and his friends came back immediately and took the couch, which is where they had been camping out before i showed up.
but in a very unscience-like way, there were beer bottles everywhere, and cigarette butts in ashtrays on both tables. and ash everywhere. he smokes in his living room. so four of us smoking was stifling. the windows were open, but the cool breeze sweeping in didn't help much. he was out of smokes, and asked for one of mine. i put my pack between us, for the evening, telling him he could smoke all he wanted. he ripped the filters off of each one of my ultra lights, as he's a marlboro red kinda guy.
as a smoker, second hand smoke in an enclosed space really gets to me. i acclimated quickly when bars here banned smoking, and still sometimes go outside for smokes when i'm home and can smoke in bars.
but i was cool. it was just messy. dirty. his puppy was a crazy person who had covered every single square inch of his place in dog hair. again, something i'm used to from having a puppy who was a crazy person. but she running around and chewing things up, making us chase her when she'd get something she wasn't supposed to have off the table (you name it - his wood pipe, taryn's glass pipe, empty beer bottles) and ran under the kitchen table with it to chew and play. he chased her when he wasn't tending to records, and i babysat when he was.
i was a little overwhelmed. it reminded me of boys' places in tahoe. where the party never stopped and started, so he never had to clean up. his refrigerator was an abomination. his sink was piled with dishes that weren't specifically dirty, but weren't washed yet.
they all smoked pieces of bowls as the night wore on. i did not, because i'd been drinking. even though i really wanted to.
and we all talked.
he was running around the living room frantically, stopping on occasion to touch my shoulder and tell me to sit and relax. he was all about relaxing. said it like ten times, even though i told him i was relaxed. he was pulling records, setting up songs.
initially, he would stop the song after his favorite part. i kinda couldn't wrap my head around that, but let it slide after giving him shit about it. but eventually he did settle in a little. he was just so into all of it, telling me which he played on, which were friends, show stories. and dancing around and being his usual random self, sporadically blurting out lyrics in time.
and i guess a song or two in, it became records in the dark with friends. i was drinking a liter of seltzer, before my drunkenness faded to a slight buzz. i had two more slow beers sometime between 3 and 5am, i guess.
i wasted no time, sifting through his record collection, noting stuff i love, and appreciating the prettiest packaging. and he high fived me a few times when i commented on something near and dear to his musical heart, playing the stuff that was in pretty packaging, to show that they weren't empty promises. mono was probably my favorite new territory.
adrian knew my house, from the label. he hadn't been inside for a show, but said the label name when i said the corner i lived on, and i said, 'yeah. it's not there anymore. but that is my house.'
taryn totally blew my mind with zero degrees of separation, naming someone in a band that i actually knew. it was wild.
i had to pee about halfway into my seltzer. i didn't know the switch was outside the bathroom door, and fumbled in the dark, panicking when i couldn't find toilet paper. eventually i realized it was behind the curtain covering the window over his fire escape. and took the last three squares.
taryn went after me, and i told her i'd taken the last three squares, so she wouldn't get a surprise, and said that joey's was drip dry. which was just wrong to me. obviously, he doesn't poop at home, and doesn't have girls over often. which was some kind of a relief, as much as it was gross. no toilet paper is a big no no for me. i always check before i go at home. living with two boys who rarely use it has trained me to.
we stayed like that for a few hours, i guess. the four of us, listening to records. i took to calling him dj trainwreck when he reverted back to skipping around songs and dropping the needle in the wrong spot. switching genres violently. one of his favorites was a band of friends of his. so mathy he said you need a calculator to listen. it was one of the funniest things he said all night.
adrian left. taryn stayed a while. it was this situation that felt familiar from 19. one night i'd been hanging out with this boy i'd fucked around with, terence. and he had a girl over. but i didn't care, because his way hotter, way nicer friend azlan was also there. i was way more smitten with azlan, and didn't seem to notice that terence's girl's friend was, too. the three of us hung around a while, while the other two fucked around upstairs, breaking my heart a little. her name was candy. she was a whore, falling for the same line i had. it took about an hour before i realized that azlan was more into the other girl, and that i was the third wheel, not her. and i bailed.
apple woke up from a nap, wound up, and i forgot that she was a pit bull. playing with her meant that my arm became her chew toy. and i have scratches and a gnarly bruise on my arm to prove it. i ended that quickly.
i couldn't figure out if taryn was a friend or someone he was interested in. i only knew that she wasn't with adrian. and she wouldn't leave. ultimate clam jam.
i had to pee again, and said i wanted to go to buy some. he said he wanted to go with me, and taryn followed, despite stating that she was entirely too fucked up to be out and seen anywhere.
on our way down, we went into the library, because he said there's toilet paper in there sometimes. as luck would have it, there was. which was great, because i was at a critical point. i peed, taryn stole the roll after, and we went back up instead of heading to the store.
but instead of stopping at his door, we went up again, so he could show me the roof off the fourth floor apartment. the apartment itself made me long for $1500 a month to blow on it. the kitchen was 1960's era, with a kickass burgundy stove, and those flecked countertops that you see in old diners, lined with silver trim. it was a huge place, the windows were the best in the building. clear glass with molten awesomeness, like stained glass, only with clear glass filling out the design.
we went out onto the roof. we smoked. he sprawled out on what would be the skylights of his apartment bathroom. they were white, not clear, and joined with roof tar, as many in philadelphia buildings are.
the view was fucking mindblowing. i'd left my phone downstairs and kicked myself. being on top of a building in the center of the city within a few blocks of the liberty buildings, which were huge in my view (they're the spiky buildings in every photo of the phila skyline, for those who don't know), was so picturesque. and i missed opportunities.
it was around 4 i guess, and he was sprawled out. i pointed out that a middle button of his shirt was open. running with that, he started at the bottom and unbuttoned his shirt slowly and completely, while he sang a rap song in richard cheese lounge stylings. taryn took a picture and texted it to me then and there, saving me by name in her phone, noting me as 'cool girl', so she wouldn't delete it later.
we talked, finished cigarettes, his song was over, i explored the apartment there. saying i wish that it wasn't more than my mortgage. he said, 'you want to be neighbors? yay!'
i said, 'i wish.'
and meant it. though he'd be HORRIBLE to live above, with all the loud music and movies all hours of the night.
what i've learned in setting stuff up with him is that he works from about 4pm to midnight, when he goes in. he works from home when he writes. his night is getting started as mine is ending. boyfriend material, strike one.
while i'm on it, i'll cover the other strikes. two: he runs out of toilet paper. three: i'd spend time cleaning his place. a LOT of time. four: he self medicates with beer and weed. a LOT. the way he smokes (cigarettes like joints) makes me feel uncomfortable. five: i would inadvertantly get used. i'd foot the bill for shit when he goes through his stipend and comes up short a week before payday. six: his stipend runs out a week before payday. which means he doesn't budget.
i'll give the reasons why he is awesome for other things later in the post. those are the unflattering red flags. i am a smart girl, see? a changed person. who knows what she wants. and more specifically, what she does not.
so we went from the fourth floor back to his place with taryn in tow. and joey and i took to the couch, and started talking. he had his arm around me, and i took a cue and stretched my legs across him. he tickled my knees and touched my legs through my jeans. and i melted a little. i let myself get excited, because with her out of the picture, it was obvious that i was what was on his mind.
the thing that killed me about that night, which i told him, was that i had prepared for my night with him (the next night - the one he had canceled). i had beer, i had cigarettes, i had easter candy for his jewish ass. i had a movie to bring (darjeeling limited). i had my ipod and a short list of ground to cover with it. but, that's the beauty of not being prepared. i was in my skinny jeans and a tee shirt, with hidden furry boots underneath, which was not my plan. and came back to bite me later.
i guess my senses were dulled, because a while passed, talking science and goals and life stuff with him before i realized that taryn had disappeared. i said, 'wait. where's taryn? she didn't leave because she didn't say goodbye.'
and he said that she was probably passed out on his bed, because that happens sometimes when she gets fucked up over there.
we got up and stood in front of his laptop for a minute when he changed music, which was attached to both his speakers and his tv. and his paper was open on the screen, and he clicked on it. he sat on the futon chair and looked at it from there. it's a mac, and things on the bar were bouncing around. he got up to play something else, and i asked why so many icons were begging for his attention, and he opened his paper for me, which was one of the non-bouncing icons.
i asked if that was the paper that was paining him, and he said that he submitted three more drafts before deciding that draft nine was requiring a break. that he was too burnt to make it ten, and invited people over. and said he was so glad that i made it over.
he sat down after i read most of it, and edited it for him (spellcheck).
he came over, showing me his data, explaining what it was. and why it's so exciting to him. again. hot. i'm grateful kit has taught me enough to know what the fuck i was looking at, though it was brain activity instead of t cells and b cells in his tables. he moved to the couch while i read.
and i joined him, after finishing the whole thing. telling him i had no idea what it meant, but that schizophrenia is interesting to me, because of my psych background. we talked about what he's interested in, other than what he does. i asked if he'd ever studied dreams, or done sleep studies. he said not really, but that he's really interested in it.
i had to pee again, and said so, after about half an hour of alone talking time, where he blew my mind talking science. i asked him what he studied, what he's interested in. and he talked at length. science excites him. he loves what he does. i asked him how he ended up in phila as a phd student, from playing in bands in south florida.
and he said he was interested in neurology after getting a b.a. in philosophy, and wonder what happened in the brains of people who become paralyzed. he found a doctor who was the best in what he wanted to study and decided to apply for the spot. and got in.
his intelligence was a turn on. his dedication to science, and being a self starter as far as that goes cranked my desire to eleven.
i was hydrating, what can i say? i broke the seal. i took a break from getting to know him to pee. and that was where it ended, due to circumstance.
i went into his bathroom, to realize before i peed that the toilet paper hadn't made its way out of her purse. and came out, asking him from the bedroom where she was sleeping where it was. we decided it was in her purse. and she woke up with a start from our talking, and said, 'are you guys going to bed? you want me to go?'
to which i gracefully responded, 'no. i just need the toilet paper that is in your purse.'
so i got it. and peed. and when i came out, she was on the couch, after having grabbed another of the beers i brought. which mentally took me back to bbq's when i met conor. all the kids who show up empty-handed and take willingly.
she said, 'i'm going to drink this beer and have a smoke and then go home.'
and i squealed inside. and watched her drink slowly and smoke three cigarettes. he put on a movie after her second.
he said, 'tea. have you seen donny darko?'
and i said, 'no. but i want to.' because i thought it was johnny depp. but figured out quickly that i was confused. maggie gyllenhall made me think of that boy greg who never did message me. fleetingly. i had my eyes literally on the prize. joey sat between us on the couch. she left half an hour into the movie. he let her out, and i stretched out on his couch. he sat down, putting my legs across his lap. i told him to get comfortable. and so it was, that we spooned on the couch and watched the movie.
there was a part of the movie where he is in a shrink's office. and he said 'oh, my childhood. it was like that.' we talked about seeing shrinks for a minute. we both see them now. he's on meds that he didn't specify. and i didn't ask specifics about.
he said something about 1987. and i said, 'wait. what?'
and he said he's 25. coo coo cachoo.
i really thought he was kidding. pam, kim, and i had him pegged as being 30. 29 at the youngest. my mind was blown. i said, 'seriously? no way.'
and he said, 'yep... i'm twenty five' in his deep voice, slowly.
i said, 'holy fuck. do you know how old i am? how old do you think i am?'
he said, 'i don't know. twenty six?'
i laughed and said no.
he said, 'twenty five?'
i said, 'you're going the wrong way, sir.'
he guessed 29, before i said, 'i'm 33.'
he high fived me. again. and said, 'fuck yeah.'
which cracked me up. and he said, 'the last chick i dated was a 38 year old korean bartender.'
which did two things. it made me think, 'he is dating me, in his mind.' which was a relief.
and it made me think, 'is he going to refer to me as the german from now on?'
and curled up, his hands started to wander. first, around me. resting on my belly, full of a mix of bar food from kit's birthday party.
i'll revert here to chalk like description here. it's too good not to. soft porn for the masses. not at all ladylike. but, taking a note from that dog., i say 'i don't care if you don't treat me like a lady. just take me home and don't disobey me.'
prudes, cover your eyes. or just skip to the end and work your way up.
my arm was under him, so that my hand was in his hair. and i touched him as lightly as i could, head, hair, neck. and tracing his ears. he was squirming. it set me off.
in my mind, it was sealed. at least a makeout session, which was all i'd gone over hoping for, and expecting.
his hands wandered to other places that weren't nearly as pc. and i was a little surprised that he hadn't even tried to kiss me yet. i giggled, and my head backwards to kiss him.
and kissing him. holy fuck it was good. very passionate. different from the other boys i've kissed. he has a crazy beard, for starters.
after a minute of craning my neck, we were facing each other, wriggling and squirming. and that is when the skinny jeans came back to bite me in the ass.
it was some kind of struggle to get out of them. clothes were being tossed on the floor quickly. making out ensued. and then we were naked, about halfway through the movie. and in my ear, he said 'i want to tear you apart.'
it did things to me. god, it was hot. and i said, 'wrap it up, (last name). let's go.'
and he was a little thrown off by it.
how it is that these boys don't give a fuck about who they're sticking their penises into, whether they could become fathers as a result, just blows my fucking mind.
i've talked to my friends enough about it to know that if i want to know i'm protected, it's all about my preparedness.
and he was no exception.
don't get me wrong. i know that fucking without a layer of inconvenience in the heat of the moment could very well be what creates my blockade. but i will not risk it. i'm not on birth control specifically to keep myself honest. specifically to force myself to be careful. because the boys throw caution to the wind.
anyways, he got up to do as i said, and on his way out of the room said, 'i'm clean if that's what you're worried about', but he was back as i said, 'no. that's not it.'
and i wasted no more time trying to talk logistics.
and taking a note from matthew, asking why i got divorced while our bodies were locked, this one said, 'i have wanted to do this since i met you two years ago.'
and i said, 'i know. me, too.'
and he asked why i didn't do anything, and i said because i couldn't. without explaining. that talk will come on the second date, as it did with matthew. so as to set the record straight. and so as to not mince words about what i'm looking for with him.
and he made a joke about letting the girls handle it for me. and i laughed, and then it was 45 minutes or maybe an hour of exhibitionist fucking. because of his windows. and because the sun was coming up while we got down. anyone who was awake and looking out their window across the street would have caught so much more than an eyeful.
it was incredible. it was so good. he is fantastic. i studied him closely. kissed him at all the right times. it was amazing.
at one point, maybe half an hour in, he apologized.
i asked why on earth he would be apologizing. he said it was because of that pesky layer, and i said that it was better than fine. i was in no rush.
and somehow i missed the part where he finished. i was just moving around, because i needed to, and when he thanked me, i realized that he had finished.
i was in no physical condition to get off. so it didn't bother me at all. i asked him, and he said yes. i asked how i had missed it. and he said that medication makes things difficult for him, but that i'd managed to make that not a problem. and we high fived. again. which just proved to me how perfect he is, as far as fuck buddies go. if you can't high five after a good fuck, then what the shit is the point of doing it at all?
he told me he liked the way i'm put together as he moved to the futon chair. i stretched out on the couch in my underwear to finish the movie we'd taken a giant break from.
he made a noise of approval. i said, 'you should be proud. this is the first time i've worn this brand new underwear.'
somehow i figured out what i'd missed with the movie, and he complimented me, saying that all i'd missed was the stuff that explained the beginning and the end to stupid people. that i was smart for knowing what i'd missed. and that i'd seen what i came to see, and missed the fluff.
we smoked like that, and the movie ended. and i followed him to his bed. he said, 'and now you have to go to work?'
i said no, that i'm off weekends. but that if he was kicking me out to sleep, i'd understand. he said no way, and pulled back the covers.
apple had destroyed the lone partial roll of toilet paper at some point after the last time i peed. there was toilet paper confetti covering his bed and floor completely. i said it looked like a fucking parade, and went to pee. he handed me a small pile of the biggest collective pieces.
and he curled up with me. it was 7. and i feared that i wouldn't sleep at all. but underestimated the dull effect of marathon drinking for twelve hours. and being completely physically exhausted from fucking.
he said, 'sorry. apple ate my pillows. i just have a blanket that i use, and it smells like dog.'
there was pillow stuffing to prove his story, and i didn't mind that the blanket smelled like her. it reminded me of the years i spent with a marital bed that always smelled like puppy daughter. and because he put his arm under me and cradled my head, there was nothing offensive or uncomfortable about it.
i told him it was funny. i said, 'i see that. and i like it.'
and i meant it. dog lovers will understand. the rest of you can't. it felt like home, in a way. an old comfortable, familiar home.
i laid there, and took two pictures of his bedroom door to the fire escape in the sunrise after he fell asleep. and shortly thereafter, i fell asleep, and slept so well i shocked myself. but woke up with a start at 947 am, and knew that it was over. the night was over. the morning was over. and i knew that if i didn't get up then, i'd have a coffee migraine within the hour. and that i'd slept with my contacts in and had to get them out of my eyes.
i felt pickled, despite sharing mugs of water with him during and after sex and before sleep. and i kissed his neck to see if i could stir him. and he sighed and said hi, but wasn't budging. i got dressed and gathered my things while he slept, and went in. i bent over him, and kissed his neck, telling him in a whisper that i had to go. that i hated to leave, and wished i could stay, but that i had to go home.
i don't remember parting words, was glad i remembered my phone i'd left charging before the sex. and in caregiver fashion, put not one, but two, cigarettes on his record player and let myself out. texting him from the street to tell him they were there, and that my lighter must be, too, because i walked for about ten blocks before finding a guy who had a lighter.
it was my first walk of shame.
and as matthew said to me, after that first night, 'there was no shame in that.'
i felt disgusting, physically. i was sweaty and dirty. i was sleep deprived from getting a total of 6 hours of sleep over the past 72. i didn't want to be in my clothes from the night before, but had no options. they were smoke soaked.
it was steamy hot. the high was to be 80, but at 65, it felt like it was in the eighties. because i'd left for the party at night, i had no sunglasses, and the sun was beaming. and my eyes were particularly sensitive because my contacts were glued to them from sleeping in them. i was carrying my coat and my scarf, a telltale sign of the morning after walk home. with an unlit cigarette hanging out of my mouth, in search of a source of flame. and my hair was wild, due to a lack of a ponytail holder to keep it on lockdown.
a cop passed me more than once, and i wondered each time if i looked suspicious enough to be stopped and accused of looking like a hooker walking home after a rough night.
i knew i didn't really. i think it was my mind's way of hashing out the stuff in my head. it was a paranoid fleeting thought.
kit happened to text me as i walked within three blocks of her house, looking for a cab or a city bus, whichever came first. she reminded me that buses are impossible on sundays, much less easter sundays. and i had a smoke with her, while she talked about what happened after i left her party for joey's. and i told her a very abbreviated story of what i'd done. and walked her to favorite bar brunch on my way home.
i saw two cabs, both with customers in them. and the bus rolled past me exactly at the stop where i'd have gotten off to go home.
i'd smoked three cigarettes on the way. not because i wanted them, but because one got me out of my old neighborhood, one got me through the hood, and one because i'd be done and home after it.
i have never felt so tired and hungover and gross as i did right then. it took a momentus amount of effort to just pick pajamas and get everything into the bathroom that i needed to shower and neti and get into bed.
i felt great after my shower, giddy from telling kim and pam that i'd gone over. because the last they'd heard was that he'd canceled. they were more floored than i was that i'd had sex with him.
pam called me a whore, because that's what she does. and kim said, 'fly little bird fly' after i thanked her for being the reason i was there in the first place, and thanked her for looking out for my vag.
also something that we say to each other regularly.
i fucking LOVE those girls.
it will be interesting to see when joey shows his face next. and what he says to them, how they react to him, and if i'm there, what the fuck will even HAPPEN.
as i climbed into bed, poor matthew texted me 'brunch or no?'
and i had a mix of feelings about it. how his one stupid flake out resulted in him sharing me with another boy. how i owed him almost as much gratitude as the girls, for buttering joey up for me. i owed him for letting me cash in.
and i said i couldn't, that i was going to sleep because i'd had three hours the night before and was too tired. told him to hit me up at night, if he wanted to.
i passed out. i actually napped. and i woke up feeling fantastic, which NEVER happens. i wrote and laid in bed and watched the end of the movie.
i talked to my parents for an hour last night. not realizing until it was too late that joey had called me while i was on the phone with them. that's what i get for not being rude and making them hold while i scoped it out.
while i was sleeping, he'd sent a text that simply said, 'thanks for the smokes and the good times.'
what a gentleman.
we went back and forth a bit, he apologized for not having coffee to make for me. and i blubbered about all the reasons i left. and told him next time, he's coming over to enjoy my deck and my music. and time passed. and he randomly texted me, 'yesterday was pretty awesome.'
which is still making me smile.
and i busted his chops, 'see? and you were gonna wait another whole week. pshaw.'
when i saw he called an hour afterwards, i texted him, but he didn't call me back.
i didn't hear from matthew until this afternoon, when i texted him about the wedding.
it's a night wedding. so i'm not going to be his date. i told him that if it was anyone other than my favorite band, i would sell my tickets. but that i can't miss the show.
and when he responded that he had his feelers out for my understudy, i both laughed and felt awesome. i was his first choice. and he took it like a champ.
good things, all the way around.
i ate two sandwiches at work today. a club first, a mozzarella pesto melted flatbread second.
and now? nachos. and birthday cake. with beer.
it's not easy being a rockstar. scary skinny tea says i'm allowed. in fact, she needs it. she's a demanding little bitch, that one. and right now? she's FULL.
i smoked another pack of cigarettes in a day for the second day in a row during the second half of birthday festivities combined with joey night. and vowed to change my ways.
i spent two days in a row drinking incessantly - endurance drinking, where i didn't even have a buzz for the majority of the time i was imbibing. for ten or more hours at a time. also not okay. feeling pickled makes me want to check into a rehab center. but not every weekend is a birthday weekend, so i'm letting this one slide. there just can't be more in my near future. i don't want to be pickled again until nina is here with me.
i write, from beer number three. saying as it's midnight, and i had the first one at 6, i am fine with it.
what an insane weekend. so much fun on friday. disappointment and frustration on saturday. until accomplishing joey. and then that aftermath. sorting it all out in my head, and finally having a fucking night to write it all out.
kit pointed it out to me yesterday: the way i feel about seeing more than one person at once is uncomfortable to me, because i feel like i have to pick one. to choose. to make some kind of a choice.
and the beauty of dating is that you don't have to choose at all. you can choose who you spend more time with, sure. and that is based on who you want to see more. but that's not a definitive choice. it might change daily. one person's time might be more limited than someone else's. for me, that factors in greatly.
but i don't have to figure out who i want to spend time with. because, as i told joey when he called and we talked, when he canceled, 'i like to fly by the seat of my pants.'
if i'm available, maybe. if i'm tired, no way. and if i'm with someone else, the decision has already been made. pretty soon it will be second nature, and won't cause me anguish and heartache. the fear of making the wrong decision. always wanting something more or something different, or something better.
i am so fucking glad to have the day off from work tomorrow to get shit done at the house.
i can't wait until i'm on the other side of tomorrow. with a big push toward having so much shit done before my family gets here. aubree starts her internship in two weeks. it's blowing my mind. she should be here in the next ten days.
back to boys. of course...
it's funny. matthew did me a huge favor by flaking on me. because now i sorted out something (joey) that would have continued to stress me out until we finally met up. and now my mind is free from worry, because the list he is at the top of is very different from the one that scares the piss out of me.
maybe matthew will be my boyfriend after i fuck my way through a pile of dudes. if he puts up with it. if he decides i'm worth it, and i get it out of my system.
and in the meantime, when joey asks me to hang out with him, i'm all over it. because he's chalk grade fucking. with the same set of mental pathways on my end. there's no draw to care about him as more than a friend. no squishy feelings. just wanting more of saturday night, that was actually completely sunday morning.
i'm categorizing. i'm boxing boys into their nifty little cubbies. like an assembly line. a slow moving, sparse one. i keep waiting for the hopper to drop the next boy down to me, where i'm waiting at the end of the line.
next... shuffle... sort... next....
and because this weekend is now open without the wedding on the horizon, i'm going to text sam about a hangout. finally. actually, i stopped typing to do it. now i will wait and see what he says.
another 25 year old. now that my feet are all wet...
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