6 month check up

Back in January, I made my list of non resolutions.  Frankly about a week later I forgot about the list pretty much all together.  Recently I was realizing how woa baby, it’s really halfway through 2008?  So I looked back on my little list to see how I’ve been doing at the things that I swore I would not do in 08′…

In 2008 I will not…

• Feel bad about doing what I want to do, when I want to do it

Pretty much following this one for the most part.  Very seldom, now and then, I find myself up and doing something that I feel like I need to do out of obligation or because I “should” rather than because I actually want to.  But I’m getting better at this.  A lot better.

• Set foot into Blockbuster.  I hate the service I received there over a year ago and will not go back there, ever.

Damn straight.  Done and done.  And it seems like Blockbusters are on the outs lately?  Lots of them around me are closing and, well, I couldn’t be happier.  Damn them and the witchy customer service representative who scolded me for returning a movie late when she there was CLEARLY a sign posted exclaiming, “no late fees!”  The whole franchise is dead to me.

• Let emails go more than one week without at least a short and quick reply.  At least something.

Yes.  I’m good at this.  I think.  I hope?

• Feel bad about getting a manicure whenever the hell I feel like it, even if I’m strapped for $$.

Absolutely.  And pedis, now that it’s summa summa summa-time!

• Go to bed without washing my face.  I am pretty good at this as it is, but it’s not something I want to let slide.

Wow, I was struggling to come up with things here huh?  I can’t believe I actually made this a bullet for my life in 2008.  How ingenious of me.  Hmm.  Anyway, yeah, I make it a point always do this now.  No matter the number of martinis I have before bed. 

• Feel like I need to write here, just to have a new post up. 

Yeah, I don’t really do that anymore.  Clearly evidenced by my roughly 2-3 post per week trend.

• Chase tequila with beer.  It’s a proven fact that by doing this, I will a- not be able to hack it (as much as I think I can, despite past experiences), b- find myself in sexual “situations” with “platonic” friends (sometimes not a bad thing mind you, yet at times, not good), and c- be quite hung the next day, at work.

Hmm.  I think I did this once or twice since the New Year.  After all, there was a Cinco de Mayo in the mix here.  It had to be done.

• Not wear my seat belt at all times.

I always wear it.  Click it or ticket!  My damn annoying car that has a god awful binging that goes on until one buckles I always make sure my passengers wear it too.  I’m annoying like that.  Buckle up!

• Think it’s a good idea to try shrimp.  Again.  For the eighth time.  It’s never been a good idea and it never will be.

I think I hit number nine over the past couple of months.  Everyone was doing it, everyone was loving it, the sauce is always what entices me, and it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.  Oof, I was wrong.  Again.

• Cross my arms so much.  I know it’s bad body language.  I don’t do it to ward people off, but I know that’s the signal I might be giving.  I do it because I’m cold or just… bored.  I’ll dress warmer and find someone to people watch when I need entertainment.

You know, I think I still do this.  It’s one of those things where I just don’t always know where to house my hands when I’m standing around.  I feel like on my hips looks too “don’t mess with me”-like, in my pockets is a little… dude-ish, and so, they kind of just end up crossed in front of me.  Lame-o. 

• Makeout with an ex boyfriend.  Especially him.  Not a good idea back a couple months ago, never going to be a good idea, ever.

Hm, I think this one is covered.  I went down that road in October, so I think I’m in the clear as far as the New Year goes.  Woot.

• Be the girl that is okay with listening to a past flame’s stories about he and his new lovebug.  I’m just not… cool with that.  Why pretend to be?

Tricky.  The one I was talking about here, I don’t put up with it from anymore.  There is another someone though, just a friend (when you say he’s just a friend!) that had been harping on his dates to me all too often.  I don’t mind listening and advice giving and being the chick that guys talk to about that stuff sometimes, but sweet baby j, give it a rest sometimes too, you know?

• Beat myself up if I skip a couple workouts, eat too many Cheez-Its, keep postponing signing up for that pilates class that I want to, or drink too many martinis.

I’ve been so much better at this one.  I finally did enroll in that pilates/yoga class over the winter, and I absolutely loved it.  I did it through about April-ish, took a break for a bit, and then replaced that with the bootcamp.  I don’t get as frustrated with myself for missing a workout now, and I feel like with all the workouts I do get in in a week, the cheez-its are well deserved sometimes.  And the martinis are always well deserved.  Is there ever not a time for them?  (Don’t answer that.)

• Try and run around and make my lunch two minutes before I need to leave for work.  What happened to the nightly lunch making routine I was once in?

Fail.  Still haven’t gotten in the morning lunch habit.

• Let my clean laundry stay in folded piles all over my bedroom floor for weeks days.

Oof.  Wicked fail. I think the other thing is, I keep buying more clothes, and so, I’m running out of space in my tiny little bedroom to put them all away.  That won’t stop me from buying, but it will make my room look like a tornado hit clothing boutique.

• Avoid the regular maintenance of my car so much. 

This one sucks.  Probably right after I wrote this non-resolution list, I shelled out $500+ for my car.  There’s such thing as a 20,000 mile check up?  30,000?  What?  I hate car maintenance.  Hate it.

• Straighten my hair so often.  I love my waves!

Score!  I hardly ever bust out the straightener anymore.  Special occasions (dates, holidays?, the Sex and the City movie with my ladies, shoe shopping), yes.  Otherwise, I go with the waves and especially in this wicked summer heat.  No blow drying for me.

• Ever, ever feel guilty about any purchase of shoes.

Buyers remorse struck last week after a hefty purchase during my lunch hour.  Though, shoes were not involved in said purchase, so I don’t think this counts.

• Let a crush go on for too long before either doing something about it, or shutting up about it.

I’ve been good about this.  I’m not one to just sit and wait around like I’m at a 7th grade dance, pining away for the dude to make the first move.  If I’m into you, you’ll probably be in the know about it. 

• Settle.

Welp, I’m Still Single, so there’s that answer.

How is everyone else doing on any resolutions, or, non-resolutions you made this year?

 

whatcha gonna do with all that junk?

what happened last monday that led me to the bag were a series of events. it started with bootcamp in that wicked hot hot humid heat, which makes for lots of sweat, and when you’re wearing one of those tank-top-built-in-bra deals that’s white, what happens is the sweat just completely soaks the whole damn thing (classy) and you can basically see everything. it’s fine if you’re just driving home in your little red corolla, which i had planned to do, but not so fine if you need to step into cvs which is what i ended up having to do instead.

so i pulled into the parking lot and thought that maybe, possibly i might find some gem of a tee shirt in my trunk. you know, something to just throw over the unfortunate look that i had going so that i could run into cvs, get my pill and call it a wrap. all i found was a big hooded sweatshirt, not sure whose, which just wasn’t going to cut it when the temps were still in the high 90’s. i scrounged around some more, then, underneath an umbrella and a bunch of old cds and my yoga mat, i found the bag.

(dundundun…)

the bag of him. for the longest time ever, the bag was actually a box with stuff of him. i transferred said stuff into a bag when i decided that the box was a- taking up too much space in my already too cluttered heart room, and b- was just too much of a reminder of him and what once was.  it was time. i didn’t (and still don’t) have it in me to chuck all the stuff, so i put it in the trunk of my car and that was that. out of sight out of mind kind of deal, or so i thought.

the thing about ex boyfriends who you break up with under reluctant terms is that you (or maybe it’s just me?) don’t ever totally feel ready to say see ya later to the stuff of him. in the bag is a random bunch of crap… a snowman ornament he gave me the first christmas we spent together. a silly ipod sock that was kind of a joke between us. a little notebook that we would leave each other notes in when he’d stay at my place and he’d have to leave for work earlier than i got out of bed. two letters from him. one from when we were still together, the other that he sent as his last ditch effort to win me back. and also three tee shirts and a bunch of movie stubs, and several pictures, including three random ones that i found of penguins (?).

now i wasn’t intending to look into the bag, not at all. no real good ever comes of such a thing; it brings up old memories of happy and sometimes rocky couplehood together, times that frankly id rather have kept in a secure place tucked under junk, locked in my trunk.

but there was really no other choice, pickin’s were damn slim, and there was no way i was turning around to go home only to get a different tee shirt and come right back when there were three tee shirts right in front of me. his tee shirts, but tee shirts none the less.

oof. i had to. i untied the target bag that was in front of me, and i’m sorry to the nice gentleman who pulled in after me (i hope he reads my blog), for what he saw must have made him quite nervous: a flustered single girl in a sweaty workout shirt, a yoga mat on the ground, a bright pink umbrella next to it, an old copy of the immaculate collection cd, and bunch of those damn penguin pictures sitting on my roof all strewn about. poor nice gent looks up to find me holding on to said tee shirt trying to decide if i should really go for it or not.

naturally, my last resort was to don the tee shirt of the ex.  i first held it up to see which one it was (some random nondescript one, good) and started to put it on, but not before sniffing it first. (shut up; don’t tell me you wouldn’t do it too.)
(it didn’t smell like him, thank sweet baby jesus or else i might have had to go in for a consoling hug with the nice innocent bystander man next to me, nervously observing this whole debacle.)

sigh.

in the end, everything worked out just fine. it was just a hell of a lot of hot hassle in order to simply make a cvs trip, and i guess, a good lesson to always pack an extra shirt… of my own.

 

2007

The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine  

It’s almost New Years and I’ve been tagged to do a little recapski of the year and I just don’t know where to really begin.

This year, I am again fortunate enough to say that I have been surrounded by and blessed with a wonderful family.   Family that has been through a heck of a lot this year.   You know that saying, “when life hands you lemons, make lemonade?”  Welp, with the lemons my family, my grandparents in particular, have been handed this year, I swear I could be whipping up lemonade drinks for all of you and your friends, for a long while!  (alcoholic versions, of course)  It’s been a tough year with what has been going on.   Looks as though things aren’t looking so good for the start of 2008 either.  The health of my grandfather is worse than we had once thought.  It’s bad.  That’s all I can really bear to write at this point.  But, one thing I know for sure is that I couldn’t be more fortunate, more grateful, and feel more blessed for the wonderful family I do have.   We’re going through a lot, but we have such a strong family, have each other, and we are rallying up.  Trying to deal.  The best we can.  

And then there’s my friends.  My amazing, wonderful, charismatic, hysterical, exciting group of friends.   For them I am so completely grateful and I swear not a day goes by that I don’t realize how good I’ve got it.   These friends, we’ve have been there with each other through it all.   The good the bad and the not so pretty.  The late nights, the run ins with exes, heartaches and triumphs, disappointments and accomplishments.   We’ve all been together, through thick and thin.  These friends I’ve got, them and my family, are one constant I got going in my life.  When life is so fragile and delicate and can really change in the blink of an eye, it’s so comforting to know that I have so many wonderful people with me in my corner.

I’ve been there and done a lot this year.  Competed in two triathlons, took several enriching writing classes and seminars.  Tried new foods and dated different types of men.  I even learned how to (almost) master uploading pictures on this here blog, and yes, I do consider that an Accomplishment of 2007.  There have been so many little moments.  Those small moments in a converstion with a best friend, the inside jokes, the words that don’t need to be said but that are shared accross the table over a lowe lip bite and another sip of beer.  Those many moments that pass by all too quickly.  The feeling in a day when you have the sense that all is just right.  So many little, special, unique moments that I’ve taken in over a year.  Too many to list out here, but all tucked away as meaningful memories in my heart.

Oh, and then there’s the traveling I’ve done this year.  Traveling, which I just can’t seem to get enough of, for I’m forever in search of a little getaway.  I’ve vacay-ed in Miami and Myrtle Beach, Reno and Lake Tahoe, long weekends in NH, Maine, the Cape and NY.   I hope to keep with this travel trend in the year to come too because I find that getting the heck out of dodge just does wonders for restoring the soul and gaining new perspective and realizing that there is so much more than just the city I live in and the sights I see every day.  And also, getting out? even for a day or two, as sweet and wonderful as it is and for all it’s good, it really makes one appreciate home that much more too.

And I have a wonderful home, or apartment rather.  A roof over my head which I think during a year long recap is actually something to recognize because so many people do not have this.  A cozy apartment that I share with someone who is not only just a “roommate” but who is also a best friend.   A cat who is pumped when I arrive back at these digs every day, who loves me with no question and just so happens to be a good snuggler too.   A dependable guy in my life, who’da thunk?!

Ah, relationships.  There have been a few this year, although nothing wickedly awesome to speak of.   I took off 2007 with my heart a little heavy over a certain someone who I had that kind of unrequited love with.   Were distances shorter, timing different, maybe things with he and I would work.   But I finally realized it was time to let that hope go, not let it keep that grip on me as it had so successfully done for so long.   And I eventually learned how to be (pretty mostly) okay with that.   And there have been other men.  Men I’ve dated who have most certainly been duds.  Men who I’ve dated who I just haven’t felt that zsa zsa zsu with.   Men who I’ve felt it with but it just wasn’t meant to be.  Ah, yet through all of these dates, I guess I can say one thing.   I have learned even more what I want by sometimes getting what I don’t.  And learning, well that’s got to be a good thing right?   Getting a little bit closer to fine, relationship wise, I have to feel like that’s what I’ve done.   And sure, some of this learning was at the cost of a couple heartaches and disappointments, but in the end, worth it, because I am able to say that I have grown.

I have grown stronger, more independent.  More confident and sure of myself.  More aware of who I am, the type of friend, lover, daughter, date, and all around person that I want to be.  This year has had it’s ups and downs for sure, but I am able to say that I have lived authentically and loved passionately, and for that, I feel thankful.  I’m ready to say goodbye to 2007, close that chapter and be on to the next.   

Ready for new beginnings.  

Much happiness and many good things to all of you and your loved ones in the year ahead.

 

for the love of a pill pack

So picture this scene.  Last night, after a glass of wine and some DVR’d tv, I made my way to the kitchen, rinsed off my glass, threw away the remnants of the popcorn kernels I had been snacking on, and proceeded to get ready for bed.
 
So I exfoliated (which isn’t an every night thing mind you, but I was feeling ballsy last night, and going into a date the next day, it felt like… the right thing to do).  I exfoliated then flossed (not so regular either), brushed my teeth, and exited the bathroom.  My roommate and I chatted in the kitchen a bit about the weekend, and how much of a bitch Merideth Grey is, and I went to my bedroom to take my pill.  Normal.  Everything is still going fine.
 
Until I pick up my pill case.  And it’s… just the case.  No pill pack.  What the fuck?  So I move my dresser, see if it’s somehow fallen behind there, or something?  Figuring, it has to be right around here, as this is my nightly routine and this is just where it goes. 
 
Flashback to earlier that morning.  For what in God’s name knows what reason, I had accumulated not one, not two, but THREE empty pill packs/blue cases in my room.  I guess at some point I figured saving one was a good idea, so I’d have the “rx #”… but then one turned into two, turned into three… and… you get the idea.
 
That morning I was done with these packs just banging around everywhere, and I, you know, collected the empty ones, thought I made sure to check that I wasn’t tossing the wrong one, and dumped the two duds.
 
This flashback comes to me as I’m behind the dresser, on my hands and knees, looking for said pill pack. 
 
Which, idiot!… is in the trash.
 
Which is outside, in the pretty much dumpster.
 
Fuck.
 
So, I do what any girl has to do in this situation.  I can’t very well just say screw it, and not take the pill.  I knew I wouldn’t have time to get to the pharmacy the next day as I would be leaving for NY that weekend.  So, my roommate and I made our way outside.
 
I was wearing this:

and this, and these, and these gems,

I know, you can’t get over how damn sexy my bedtime attire is these days (remember, the igloo that is my bedroom as of late?).  So those socks?  Necessary.  The sweatpants?  A must.  Underneath, a long sleeve shirt, and I swear, I almost put on gloves the night before.

And, I grabbed the closet pair of shoes in reach, and hence the saucy black, patent leather, peep toe pumps, which looked SO hot let me tell you, with these socks, peek-a-booing their sassy selves out the top.
 
In this outfit, my roommate in similar garb, we ransacked the trash.  Oh holy hell, the smell.  The coffee grinds mixed with remnants of the leftover Italian wedding soup from who knows when.  Yeah, I did throw up in my mouth, just a little bit, in case you were wondering.
 
So we scrounged around for what seemed like hours but was probably more like five minutes.  All of this, outside our apartment, in these outfits, a bit buzzed on Pino, waking up neighbors with our laughter on a freezing night.   

We found the pills, thankfully, and now all is right in the world.

Add that to another one of those moments where you say, “this?  this is my life.”

 

just a sec

It was out of the blue. I didn’t have a heads up that this was going to happen. We had not spoken in weeks, no phone calls or emails. No suggestive IMs too late at night. I hadn’t had any cocktails, hadn’t heard a song that reminded me of him. Had not had any updates through the grapevine; I wasn’t even sure how he styled his hair now, and hair I know. I was simply sitting on the couch in my living room. I was flipping through the glossy pages of a Blueprint magazine, planning curtain colors and imagining placement of accent rugs. When it hit me. Like a ton of bricks and out of no where, it came upon me. My eyes filled up. I thought of him. Again with the no warning. My roommate came out of her bedroom, prettied up for a night out, and smelling of a new Victoria Secret scent. I explained to her what happened. Neither one of us knew what to really say. She just sat down next to me, close to me. I leaned my head on her shoulder, and we both sat together, in silence. Just knowing that I could tell her, that I could say in so few words that it had happened again, unexpectedly, and that I didn’t need an explanation for it, was comforting. The tears went away as we pulled our of our driveway and made our way to dinner. I opened up the passenger side window, breathed in the familiar humid breeze of a New England summer, and smiled at the little girl playing in the grass across the street.

 

sneaking in

We fought. Argued. So often. We’d bicker, and I hated it. Especially before bed. You didn’t want to talk about the fight the next morning. I did. I wanted answers. Why did we keep doing this? Mustn’t this be a sign? You said that all couples fought. And I refused to believe that. You said I overreacted, calling me selfish for wanting to talk about it because you said you were done with the conversation. And “how could I” not accept that. I told you I wasn’t being selfish. That I just wanted a plan. To work on, or towards. To make this get better. Not knowing for sure if it really ever could, get better.

I was sad. Upset. And discouraged. Thinking, wondering, is this as good as it gets? This? This is what it’s like? And I began to think maybe I was overreacting. I began to cherish the good, lived for the good of it all, of us. Those few and far between good times, amidst all of the turmoil. I would apologize, over and over, for making you upset. Actually believing that it was my fault.

You said you never felt this strongly for someone before. Couldn’t picture life without me. You, we, we pictured a family together. Marriage and a house and children and a puppy.

We would have our happy times. Takeout on the floor over candlelight. Ice skating hand in hand on a cold winter day. Then, inevitably, it would go back. Back to bad. To yelling and drinking and tears in the bathroom, or over chai tea at a Starbucks with a girlfriend down the road on a bad night.

Using all of the emotional strength I could muster up, I tried. Over and over to make it all work. Make it better. Make us better. Tried, with all I could, to make us the happy couple that I hoped we could be. I wanted so badly for us to just be happy together. I thought I could do that could be us.

It didn’t work. After a while, it all ended up being much, much more actual work, to make us work, than it was worth. I loved you with everything I had, and pulled the hardest move I’ve ever had to make when I told you I couldn’t do it anymore. When I said goodbye.

It’s been a long time since all of that. I don’t think about you as often as I once did. But I still do sometimes. And it’s sneaky. It sneaks up on a warm sunny Sunday afternoon in the summertime. When I’m not doing anything we ever did together, I’ll think of you then. And it will throw me for a loop. We never had a summer. I’ll be on a bike ride, or eating homemade salsa at a friend’s house, and you’ll be there. Not physically, but you’re there. And it will hit me like a ton of freaking bricks. It creeps in. You, creep in. You end up in my thoughts, just like that, and sometimes in my dreams. Into my mind at a random moment.

And maybe there are some triggers, who knows. Seeing your friend, who is dating my friend. Me, meeting a new guy. Hearing a song on the radio that reminds me of you, of us. But sometimes, there you are, again, all of a sudden. With no rhyme or reason to it all, you’re back. And I don’t even see it coming. The bag and box of you and your things, your reminders, the notes and cards, our pictures and your boxers, they’re all stowed away. Gone are the physical reminders of you.

But those emotional reminders, those damn emotional reminders, that have a way of getting in, unexpectedly, they go, and they stick right to my heart. And then I feel it, and I feel you, like a little twinge from time to time. A reminder maybe. Of a time when. What once was. What is so different now, today. Of where I’ve been and where I’ve come.

You’re still there. Here. Sometimes more than others. Often it’s nothing. Sometimes it’s really intense, pulling, abruptly at my heart.

I miss you sometimes, and I don’t really want to anymore.

 

"Caution, the moving walkway is empty."

I’m sitting in an airport bar, in Chicago. Do you think it counts as visiting Chicago if I’m just in an airport bar? In that case, I could say I’ve been to Vegas, Atlanta, and a few other places only by airport association. Hmm. I’m drinking Bud Light drafts. I just started a tab. Why not? I have three hours until my flight. I just checked- it’s on time. Snow delays are around me, sucks. People seeming irked that their flight is delayed. I’m starting to get a buzz. Hell, I only had some scraps of a nutrigrain bar hours ago. I’m at Miller’s Pub. In front of me is the menu, which after more beer actually looks appealing. Chicken fingers. For $8.50? That’s a lot, right? For me it is. Four travelers to my right, mother in law is coming in for the weekend, I curled my hair to fly for the day, group of delayed flight passengers are chatting, loud. About American Idol. They think the judges should have some sort of veto over who is voted off. In Sanjaya’s case especially, they say. Who curls their hair to fly for the day? Really? I specifically plan comfy. Hair up, glasses, comfy shoes. Maybe she has a shorter flight. When I fly to NY I dress it up a little more. But still, curl my hair? Shit. The two next to me, they’re a couple, are comfy. In clothes and in their way. He just leaned over to her, and wrestle hugged her. Cute. And I’m writing about them. Write now.

It doesn’t feel like 11:35am. Shit. I woke up at 5:10 today. To my body, my Massachusetts body, it’s 12:35pm. It doesn’t feel like that either. It feels like it should be dark. Night. I’m several beers in, and this is what happens when you drink during the day. I remember college Saturdays, or Fridays after class getting out, starting drinking. A beer waiting for me by one of my roommates. Our neighbors already being half bombed. That seems so long ago now.

I want to call people. But all of my contact list are working. I just texted the new guy friend of mine. Yeah, I texted, and we all know my thoughts on that. But, I think what I sent, “I’m drinking a beer right now, sucks you’re working,” was text appropriate.

Oh wow. A really cute old man just ordered a Bloody Mary and a Gin and Tonic. His wife is over in the corner and she’s adorable. I need to look away. This will induce tears.

Oh, oh no. The bartender’s boyfriend broke his jaw playing hockey. She just said “snaggle tooth.” He can’t make out. It’s been five weeks. I just saw a picture of his zoomed in grill on her Motorola camera phone. Oh, now she wants me to see a video. Wow.

I guess I should wrap this up. Order some app, or something.

And another beer.

 

"Caution, the moving walkway is empty."

I’m sitting in an airport bar, in Chicago. Do you think it counts as visiting Chicago if I’m just in an airport bar? In that case, I could say I’ve been to Vegas, Atlanta, and a few other places only by airport association. Hmm. I’m drinking Bud Light drafts. I just started a tab. Why not? I have three hours until my flight. I just checked- it’s on time. Snow delays are around me, sucks. People seeming irked that their flight is delayed. I’m starting to get a buzz. Hell, I only had some scraps of a nutrigrain bar hours ago. I’m at Miller’s Pub. In front of me is the menu, which after more beer actually looks appealing. Chicken fingers. For $8.50? That’s a lot, right? For me it is. Four travelers to my right, mother in law is coming in for the weekend, I curled my hair to fly for the day, group of delayed flight passengers are chatting, loud. About American Idol. They think the judges should have some sort of veto over who is voted off. In Sanjaya’s case especially, they say. Who curls their hair to fly for the day? Really? I specifically plan comfy. Hair up, glasses, comfy shoes. Maybe she has a shorter flight. When I fly to NY I dress it up a little more. But still, curl my hair? Shit. The two next to me, they’re a couple, are comfy. In clothes and in their way. He just leaned over to her, and wrestle hugged her. Cute. And I’m writing about them. Write now.

It doesn’t feel like 11:35am. Shit. I woke up at 5:10 today. To my body, my Massachusetts body, it’s 12:35pm. It doesn’t feel like that either. It feels like it should be dark. Night. I’m several beers in, and this is what happens when you drink during the day. I remember college Saturdays, or Fridays after class getting out, starting drinking. A beer waiting for me by one of my roommates. Our neighbors already being half bombed. That seems so long ago now.

I want to call people. But all of my contact list are working. I just texted the new guy friend of mine. Yeah, I texted, and we all know my thoughts on that. But, I think what I sent, “I’m drinking a beer right now, sucks you’re working,” was text appropriate.

Oh wow. A really cute old man just ordered a Bloody Mary and a Gin and Tonic. His wife is over in the corner and she’s adorable. I need to look away. This will induce tears.

Oh, oh no. The bartender’s boyfriend broke his jaw playing hockey. She just said “snaggle tooth.” He can’t make out. It’s been five weeks. I just saw a picture of his zoomed in grill on her Motorola camera phone. Oh, now she wants me to see a video. Wow.

I guess I should wrap this up. Order some app, or something.

And another beer.

 

how come?

I hate these reminders of you. There’s so many freaking reminders. You know, for the longest time, I felt good that I was in a new place. A new apartment, somewhere you’d never been in, we’d never been us in. There was never an us here. No shared moments in the kitchen, cooking a meal together. Nothing shared on the couch in this place, my head in your lap as we watched a movie together. We shared my bed, but not in this new place. No shared bed memories here.

And so for a while, the no shared moments, together, here, that was all good. With the newness, there was no you, no us. I didn’t have to worry about looking outside at my driveway and remembering us kissing there. Didn’t have to see the upstairs shower and remember what we did there.

So the newness, it was all pretty good. Because it didn’t evoke memories of you. But then, the newness, the fucking newness, reminded that it was lacking you. Devoid of you. Never once was there a memory here of us together.

And sometimes it’s everywhere. Sometimes you are still everywhere. You are in the way that my body falls asleep at night. The way I still bring a glass of water to bed. It’s in the way that I leave the door ajar in the bathroom while brushing my teeth. It’s in the way I put my hand on the passenger seat of the car.

I used to do all of these things, in the anticipation of you being there. The bed. The water for you. Expecting you to join me to brush our teeth together. Me putting my hand on your leg when I drove us somewhere.

The thing is, you’re not here. You never were. Which makes it so weird, for me to still be doing these things, as if you were. As if it’s going to ever be this way again. Why still, all these memories? Why still, can I feel your presence here, when you were never here to begin with? How can you miss something that you never had?

Why must you keep turning up all over the place? In places you don’t belong. That you weren’t ever before?

Go away. Please?

 

how come?

I hate these reminders of you. There’s so many freaking reminders. You know, for the longest time, I felt good that I was in a new place. A new apartment, somewhere you’d never been in, we’d never been us in. There was never an us here. No shared moments in the kitchen, cooking a meal together. Nothing shared on the couch in this place, my head in your lap as we watched a movie together. We shared my bed, but not in this new place. No shared bed memories here.

And so for a while, the no shared moments, together, here, that was all good. With the newness, there was no you, no us. I didn’t have to worry about looking outside at my driveway and remembering us kissing there. Didn’t have to see the upstairs shower and remember what we did there.

So the newness, it was all pretty good. Because it didn’t evoke memories of you. But then, the newness, the fucking newness, reminded that it was lacking you. Devoid of you. Never once was there a memory here of us together.

And sometimes it’s everywhere. Sometimes you are still everywhere. You are in the way that my body falls asleep at night. The way I still bring a glass of water to bed. It’s in the way that I leave the door ajar in the bathroom while brushing my teeth. It’s in the way I put my hand on the passenger seat of the car.

I used to do all of these things, in the anticipation of you being there. The bed. The water for you. Expecting you to join me to brush our teeth together. Me putting my hand on your leg when I drove us somewhere.

The thing is, you’re not here. You never were. Which makes it so weird, for me to still be doing these things, as if you were. As if it’s going to ever be this way again. Why still, all these memories? Why still, can I feel your presence here, when you were never here to begin with? How can you miss something that you never had?

Why must you keep turning up all over the place? In places you don’t belong. That you weren’t ever before?

Go away. Please?