Quickly! Ketchup! Catsup! Catch Up!
NaNoWriMo is eating my soul. Evidently I still suck at doing anything on a deadline - as if my less than stellar high school & college years weren't indication enough. I am woefully behind in my novel and I HATE IT. I am half heartedly plugging along but mostly am thinking I will work on my outline more and hopefully restart using the book the boy got me in January.
What I think is hilarious is that this blog was supposed to be the thing that helped me write every day (it didn't). So really, I was never going to be able to force myself to write 1700 words a day - Every day. So I'll keep trying. We'll see. Maybe I'll surprise myself. And really? Thanksgiving is a whole bunch of time I don't want to spend with my family...so maybe I'll write.
I saw a Serious Man over the weekend. Not exactly the Cohen Brothers best work. I'm still wondering exactly what the niche is for that movie.
I am reading "The Dome". Stephen King needs a better editor.
That's it. I'm reading, writing and seeing sorta bad movies.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Standing of the Verge
NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow. And I'm doing it this time - I've signed up, and my boy bought me a book on novel writing in a month. I'm ready to go...I'm nervous and scared and excited and thrilled.
For once in my life too I have someone standing in my corner cheering me on. Of all the things that this person has given me - the faith that they have given me in myself is amazing. I can't thank him enough for the support and love he's given me over the last year...knowing that someone is interested in you, cares about what you care about and chooses not to mock your passions but indulge them is amazing. I'm a lucky girl.
Speaking of the boy - we've progressed rather swimmingly to the next level of our relationship. We're out and we're proud. Or something like that. Last week we went to movie and dinner with his kids. It was nice, if not a little awkward for me, but we all spent time together which was nice.
I'm having a bit of crisis of faith lately. My life has not exactly been going the way I planned, I'm on the outs with my family, I'm stuck in the world's tiniest apartment, in a job I FUCKING HATE, etc etc etc... But I know that I can and will figure this all out and that when it's all over with I will emerge from the other end a happier lady.
So I'm off to work on my outline and finish my book. You may not hear much from me in November, but hopefully in December there will be 50,000 written words.
For once in my life too I have someone standing in my corner cheering me on. Of all the things that this person has given me - the faith that they have given me in myself is amazing. I can't thank him enough for the support and love he's given me over the last year...knowing that someone is interested in you, cares about what you care about and chooses not to mock your passions but indulge them is amazing. I'm a lucky girl.
Speaking of the boy - we've progressed rather swimmingly to the next level of our relationship. We're out and we're proud. Or something like that. Last week we went to movie and dinner with his kids. It was nice, if not a little awkward for me, but we all spent time together which was nice.
I'm having a bit of crisis of faith lately. My life has not exactly been going the way I planned, I'm on the outs with my family, I'm stuck in the world's tiniest apartment, in a job I FUCKING HATE, etc etc etc... But I know that I can and will figure this all out and that when it's all over with I will emerge from the other end a happier lady.
So I'm off to work on my outline and finish my book. You may not hear much from me in November, but hopefully in December there will be 50,000 written words.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Girl you're looking at two big spenders
I had been kicking around going back to see Springsteen again on his last night in Philly 10/20. I knew I'd be going it alone, and I felt some trepidation about that, so I waited until the absolute last moment to buy my ticket and was rewarded with perhaps the best seat in the house (from my standpoint). Last row in the Spectrum - behind the stage. Sounds sucky, right? But it wasn't. There were video monitors and the stage is fairly open and Bruce was in full show mode... so he played up to the crowd even in the back. Plus there was plenty of room to dance - and man, I danced.
I really wanted to see "Born in The USA" preformed in its entirety. How could I not? Jeez, I don't know if there is an album that encapsulates 1984 better than that one. I wanted to a part of the E Street band with all my heart that year. In 85 I got the Springsteen live 75-85 box set and I poured over the pictures and listened and listened and listened (I am fairly certain that I can recite word for word the 20 minute chat Bruce has at the start of "Growin' Up").
I got to the Spectrum about 45 minutes early and without Mr. Pants there to direct me, I wandered past my section, couldn't find the crab fries, and waited forever to pee. The plus side is without Mr. Pants there I was able to push my way through the crowd without feeling bad and I was able to read for a bit once I got to my seat. Having a book there was a great relief for me (when I'm nervous reading shuts me down) and a huge source of amusement for the people in my section, which led to a nice ice breaker, so even though I was alone, I felt like I was part of a common experience.
Around 8:20 Bruce and Band took the stage and ripped into the "Price you Pay" - which hasn't been played live since 81. Why they chose to play it the last night in Philly is beyond me, but it was a great night if you love "The River" - 3 tracks(and 1 outtake) from it in one night - "The Price You Pay", "The River", "Hungry Heart", & "Loose Ends" - if only "You Can Look (but you better not touch)" was played. Anyway they played and played and played... and Bruce was in great spirits - surprising me time and time again - with the soul he sang "I'm on Fire", with the opening strains of "The River" which forced me to send out several texts to people i haven't talked to in ages announcing THE MOTHERFUCKING RIVER because everyone knows that drunk Maria loves that song (if you've seen me bombed, you've heard me sing "The River" or "Glory Days" - what can I say? I'm maudlin). But the highlight of my night? "Spirit in the Night". That is one of my favorite songs EVER. Not just a Springsteen song, not just live, no just from my childhood, but from the moment I heard it until now - recorded a year before my birth - you could say I've loved this song as long as I've loved music.
I could continue to wax poetic about this concert and all of the songs on an individual basis, but I'll never do it justice, so I'll leave you here with a set list:
I really wanted to see "Born in The USA" preformed in its entirety. How could I not? Jeez, I don't know if there is an album that encapsulates 1984 better than that one. I wanted to a part of the E Street band with all my heart that year. In 85 I got the Springsteen live 75-85 box set and I poured over the pictures and listened and listened and listened (I am fairly certain that I can recite word for word the 20 minute chat Bruce has at the start of "Growin' Up").
I got to the Spectrum about 45 minutes early and without Mr. Pants there to direct me, I wandered past my section, couldn't find the crab fries, and waited forever to pee. The plus side is without Mr. Pants there I was able to push my way through the crowd without feeling bad and I was able to read for a bit once I got to my seat. Having a book there was a great relief for me (when I'm nervous reading shuts me down) and a huge source of amusement for the people in my section, which led to a nice ice breaker, so even though I was alone, I felt like I was part of a common experience.
Around 8:20 Bruce and Band took the stage and ripped into the "Price you Pay" - which hasn't been played live since 81. Why they chose to play it the last night in Philly is beyond me, but it was a great night if you love "The River" - 3 tracks(and 1 outtake) from it in one night - "The Price You Pay", "The River", "Hungry Heart", & "Loose Ends" - if only "You Can Look (but you better not touch)" was played. Anyway they played and played and played... and Bruce was in great spirits - surprising me time and time again - with the soul he sang "I'm on Fire", with the opening strains of "The River" which forced me to send out several texts to people i haven't talked to in ages announcing THE MOTHERFUCKING RIVER because everyone knows that drunk Maria loves that song (if you've seen me bombed, you've heard me sing "The River" or "Glory Days" - what can I say? I'm maudlin). But the highlight of my night? "Spirit in the Night". That is one of my favorite songs EVER. Not just a Springsteen song, not just live, no just from my childhood, but from the moment I heard it until now - recorded a year before my birth - you could say I've loved this song as long as I've loved music.
I could continue to wax poetic about this concert and all of the songs on an individual basis, but I'll never do it justice, so I'll leave you here with a set list:
Setlist:
The Price You Pay (with Curt Ramm)
Wrecking Ball (with Curt Ramm)
Out in the Street
Hungry Heart
Working on a Dream
Born in the U.S.A.
Cover Me
Darlington County
Working on the Highway
Downbound Train
I'm on Fire
No Surrender
Bobby Jean
I'm Goin' Down
Glory Days
Dancing in the Dark
My Hometown
The Promised Land
The River
Long Walk Home
The Rising
Born to Run
Higher and Higher (with Curt Ramm)
* * *
Spirit in the Night (with Vini Lopez)
Loose Ends
Kitty's Back (with Curt Ramm)
American Land (with Curt Ramm)
Save the Last Dance for Me
Waitin' on a Sunny Day
Thunder Road
Rosalita (with Curt Ramm)
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Tramps like us
Last night Mr. Pants and I went to the Spectrum to see Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. There's a lot of tension that goes into going to a concert for me. I hate crowds, people, drunk people (except me), kids, screamers, etc etc etc... So when I go it has to be a band I LOVE. I love Bruce and he didn't disappoint last night. The band sounded great and they seemed to have a really good time playing.
The show was at the Spectrum and for you non locals - The Spectrum was built in 1967 and is being torn down this year. As I stood in line to pee (a line that stretched up the stairs and around the corner - there are 10 stalls in that ladies' room and like 15000 girls that have thimble size bladders who have been boozing all afternoon) I started to think about how many times I've stood there to pee over the years. I tried to think of all the concerts I've seen. And all I could remember is how much I adored Meatloaf. Really. The Dead, The Grateful Dead, Inxs, The Cure, Bob Seger, REM, Bruce, and it all comes down to Meatloaf, behind the stage with Adam. Jesus. In all fairness though, it was a great show.
The other thought that got me as I stood there listening to Bruce playing Born To Run in its entirety, of how many times I listened to that album as a kid thinking what my life would be like. It occurred to me that that guy standing next to me probably thought at one time that the town he grew up in was "a death trap, a suicide wrap" and thought "we've got to get out while we're young" or that girl standing next me probably identifies herself as that "barefoot girl sitting on the hood of a dodge drinking warm beer in the soft summer rain". For me, it's always been the melancholy that made me love Bruce. I've always felt that his music was live in the moment type stuff... and that moment wasn't a very happy place. When I was little I would sneak records from my brothers' room and pour over the lyrics while I listened to them. One of my favorites was Born to Run. I would read the lyrics and listen to the songs and think it was this older world I didn't quite get, but that I would some day. Some day, a boy saying "You ain't a beauty, but hey, you're alright" would make sense. As my Bruce love moved past Born to Run, I feel in love with his lyrics. The working class teenage and young adult world that the subjects of Springsteen's songs often came back to. I remember listening to The River over and over again, and thinking how sad it seemed that just because he knocked up some girl he had to give away everything, and how they both pretended it didn't matter. I loved the bittersweet edge to his music. The first time I heard Jersey Girl (which is actually a Tom Waits song) and thought well, who else but Bruce could call the kid a brat and tell his girl to fix her self up so they could go to the shore. Seriously. Imagine any boy saying these things to you. Would you put up with it? Really?!
But that's the beauty of Bruce Springsteen music. No one is completely the trapped working class hero, or the lonely young girl willing to settle, but romantically we see ourselves as those things. We identify a piece of ourselves with those lyrics. Or at least I do. Let's face it, Bruce has made himself a very wealthy man pandering to those folks. And while he's getting a little long in the tooth (The Boss is 60), he is as energetic as I've ever seen him. The crowd on the other hand was amazingly diverse.
I expected people in their 40s and 50s and there were a lot of them. There were also a lot of people my age and younger, but I was truly shocked at how young. I girl who couldn't have been older than 11 had a sign asking if she could sing. I guess I should back up, Bruce has been doing this thing lately where he goes around collecting the signs the audience members have and playing some of the requests. The best one at the Philly show I was at was the cover of the AARP magazine with him on the cover (the request was for Lil bit o' soul). Occasionally Bruce will play something that is a cover and once or twice something the band has never played before (I think it was Boston this year, someone had a sign for I Want To Be Sedated and he said that he thought they were trying to stump the band. After a conference with Stevie and Nils they got it together). Back to the little girl...Bruce brought her on stage and she sang Waitin' On A Sunny Day, after which he planted a kiss on her and put her back with her folks. During Dancin' in the Dark he brought another young girl up and they danced together. It was a really family feel.
I'm going back Tuesday I think to hear Born in the USA in it's full. Darlington County is my favorite Bruce song. I can't explain why. So hopefully I will have a less long winded entry after the fact.
The show was at the Spectrum and for you non locals - The Spectrum was built in 1967 and is being torn down this year. As I stood in line to pee (a line that stretched up the stairs and around the corner - there are 10 stalls in that ladies' room and like 15000 girls that have thimble size bladders who have been boozing all afternoon) I started to think about how many times I've stood there to pee over the years. I tried to think of all the concerts I've seen. And all I could remember is how much I adored Meatloaf. Really. The Dead, The Grateful Dead, Inxs, The Cure, Bob Seger, REM, Bruce, and it all comes down to Meatloaf, behind the stage with Adam. Jesus. In all fairness though, it was a great show.
The other thought that got me as I stood there listening to Bruce playing Born To Run in its entirety, of how many times I listened to that album as a kid thinking what my life would be like. It occurred to me that that guy standing next to me probably thought at one time that the town he grew up in was "a death trap, a suicide wrap" and thought "we've got to get out while we're young" or that girl standing next me probably identifies herself as that "barefoot girl sitting on the hood of a dodge drinking warm beer in the soft summer rain". For me, it's always been the melancholy that made me love Bruce. I've always felt that his music was live in the moment type stuff... and that moment wasn't a very happy place. When I was little I would sneak records from my brothers' room and pour over the lyrics while I listened to them. One of my favorites was Born to Run. I would read the lyrics and listen to the songs and think it was this older world I didn't quite get, but that I would some day. Some day, a boy saying "You ain't a beauty, but hey, you're alright" would make sense. As my Bruce love moved past Born to Run, I feel in love with his lyrics. The working class teenage and young adult world that the subjects of Springsteen's songs often came back to. I remember listening to The River over and over again, and thinking how sad it seemed that just because he knocked up some girl he had to give away everything, and how they both pretended it didn't matter. I loved the bittersweet edge to his music. The first time I heard Jersey Girl (which is actually a Tom Waits song) and thought well, who else but Bruce could call the kid a brat and tell his girl to fix her self up so they could go to the shore. Seriously. Imagine any boy saying these things to you. Would you put up with it? Really?!
But that's the beauty of Bruce Springsteen music. No one is completely the trapped working class hero, or the lonely young girl willing to settle, but romantically we see ourselves as those things. We identify a piece of ourselves with those lyrics. Or at least I do. Let's face it, Bruce has made himself a very wealthy man pandering to those folks. And while he's getting a little long in the tooth (The Boss is 60), he is as energetic as I've ever seen him. The crowd on the other hand was amazingly diverse.
I expected people in their 40s and 50s and there were a lot of them. There were also a lot of people my age and younger, but I was truly shocked at how young. I girl who couldn't have been older than 11 had a sign asking if she could sing. I guess I should back up, Bruce has been doing this thing lately where he goes around collecting the signs the audience members have and playing some of the requests. The best one at the Philly show I was at was the cover of the AARP magazine with him on the cover (the request was for Lil bit o' soul). Occasionally Bruce will play something that is a cover and once or twice something the band has never played before (I think it was Boston this year, someone had a sign for I Want To Be Sedated and he said that he thought they were trying to stump the band. After a conference with Stevie and Nils they got it together). Back to the little girl...Bruce brought her on stage and she sang Waitin' On A Sunny Day, after which he planted a kiss on her and put her back with her folks. During Dancin' in the Dark he brought another young girl up and they danced together. It was a really family feel.
I'm going back Tuesday I think to hear Born in the USA in it's full. Darlington County is my favorite Bruce song. I can't explain why. So hopefully I will have a less long winded entry after the fact.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
A concept I can't grasp
Lately there are two lyrics that have been running through my head on repeat. The first is from The Grateful Dead's "Ripple" and the second is from Springsteen's "The Wrestler". They are intertwined in my mind and while the reason that they are both stuck in my head is obvious, I can't quite figure out the deeper meaning.
Ripple: But if you fall, you fall alone. If you stand, then who's to guide you? If I knew the way, I would take you home
Bruce: These things that have comforted me, I drive away. This place that is my home I cannot stay
I would assume that it's my homesickness that is propelling these lyrics around my head. And I'll admit that as Mr. Pants describes the way Al is laying on the couch or how loud Boo cries at night, I feel a hollowness in the pit of my stomach. I miss them. And there are times, as I'm trying to figure out this new relationship that I think - I have a comfortable pair of sneakers at home, why the fuck am I trying to break these new ones in?
I wonder how long the new will feel new, and if as most things do as they age, the old will take on that shiny fond memory of the past. Will I wax poetic about how Mr. Pants and I would pour over the EW Fall Preview completely forgetting that he would pick every awful High School "Drama" to record? Will I forget that even after the show was a proven loser he would stick with it and insist it would get better with no regard to my frustration?
I'm tired of dealing with this. I almost wish I could proclaim that I have had enough...I've sufficiently fucked up this life. I'd like a new one. I will treat it better, I promise. I'll feed it and walk it and give it plenty of life kisses. And then six months from now I'll have a myriad of issues that make my new life less shiny and fun. And I'll want to trade it in. Maybe for the life I'm living now. Isn't that essentially what I've been doing? Fucking things up, abandoning them and moving on? Does my lack of sticktoitiveness make me less of a person? Is it wrecking my chances at happiness? I think it is...I need to stick to things. Be less Maria like and more focused.
Maybe that will change my feeling of homelessness. I have a perfectly good place to rest my head every night. I have a nice gentleman who spends a bit of time with me. I have an awesome cat who has developed this really kick ass personality of late. But I don't have a home. That place where I can be me and feel happy, safe and comfortable. I'm really worried about that. I think we all need that place.
I wish I knew how to get home and how to be happy there.
Ripple: But if you fall, you fall alone. If you stand, then who's to guide you? If I knew the way, I would take you home
Bruce: These things that have comforted me, I drive away. This place that is my home I cannot stay
I would assume that it's my homesickness that is propelling these lyrics around my head. And I'll admit that as Mr. Pants describes the way Al is laying on the couch or how loud Boo cries at night, I feel a hollowness in the pit of my stomach. I miss them. And there are times, as I'm trying to figure out this new relationship that I think - I have a comfortable pair of sneakers at home, why the fuck am I trying to break these new ones in?
I wonder how long the new will feel new, and if as most things do as they age, the old will take on that shiny fond memory of the past. Will I wax poetic about how Mr. Pants and I would pour over the EW Fall Preview completely forgetting that he would pick every awful High School "Drama" to record? Will I forget that even after the show was a proven loser he would stick with it and insist it would get better with no regard to my frustration?
I'm tired of dealing with this. I almost wish I could proclaim that I have had enough...I've sufficiently fucked up this life. I'd like a new one. I will treat it better, I promise. I'll feed it and walk it and give it plenty of life kisses. And then six months from now I'll have a myriad of issues that make my new life less shiny and fun. And I'll want to trade it in. Maybe for the life I'm living now. Isn't that essentially what I've been doing? Fucking things up, abandoning them and moving on? Does my lack of sticktoitiveness make me less of a person? Is it wrecking my chances at happiness? I think it is...I need to stick to things. Be less Maria like and more focused.
Maybe that will change my feeling of homelessness. I have a perfectly good place to rest my head every night. I have a nice gentleman who spends a bit of time with me. I have an awesome cat who has developed this really kick ass personality of late. But I don't have a home. That place where I can be me and feel happy, safe and comfortable. I'm really worried about that. I think we all need that place.
I wish I knew how to get home and how to be happy there.
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Don't do what Donnie Don't does
Ugh. I haven't updated in awhile. This peaked in late July and plummeted shortly there after. I've been trying to pick up the pieces and once I gathered most of them up, the stuff that wasn't a fucking disaster became of fucking disaster. I'm trying to fix it - I hope I can.
So, let's see, what have I been up to for the last month? I drank some beers with friends. Over shared with my niece. Told a dude in a bar to "Cram it with walnuts, ugly". Watched Dirty work. Twice. Listened to a lot of Springsteen. Spent a lot of nights on my couch, in my underpants petting my cat.
There's more, but I'm tired and going to go watch some tv before I climb into bed. More tomorrow.... maybe.
So, let's see, what have I been up to for the last month? I drank some beers with friends. Over shared with my niece. Told a dude in a bar to "Cram it with walnuts, ugly". Watched Dirty work. Twice. Listened to a lot of Springsteen. Spent a lot of nights on my couch, in my underpants petting my cat.
There's more, but I'm tired and going to go watch some tv before I climb into bed. More tomorrow.... maybe.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Come aboard, we're expecting you...
I've started and stopped this entry about 9 times tonight. I know what I want to say, I just don't know how to get it out. Let's start now and work our way back shall we?
I'm sitting at my boss' house watching Bruce Springsteen in concert (he's got 6 discs of Springsteen live on his Escient -I'm loving life!). There is a muppet curled up next to my butt. A muppet that was sick this week and that I'm really happy is all better. I'm dog sitting. Which has been torturous with the swimming and hot tubing and reading and watching movies. Somehow I persevere.
I woke up this morning to a panicky call from my friend Em (who is also my boss' daughter) telling me that the muppet was better, but that our friend Noah was in a lot of pain. His cat got out. And since the last cat that got out never came back, he was really fucked up. There was no hesitation, I decided I was going there to help them look. Before I could get out of the shower and on my way Mr. Jim had been found. After Noah called to thank me for offering to come, I burst into tears. The joy in his voice from finding Jim was overwhelming. I love that kid a lot. He's like the little brother I never had. He's a fuck up, don't get me wrong, I know he is, but he's special too. I don't make friends easily or quickly and there was long period of time that I hated that kid (our working relationship is very dependant on one another). But somewhere it became more. He calls me Pennsylvania Mom when I'm mothering him to excess and Doog most other times. He's That Kid when he's done something dumb - like put a sparkler and cigarette out on his leg. Or shaved his whole head but left just a strip of hair off the back so he resembles a Guinea pig. He's mostly My Friend Noah though. We'll always be friends... I believe that. I don't think that they are just words. I'm fortunate to have him in my life. He met my folks and talked baseball with my pop for hours. He was sweet to my mom. He's quiet and sweet and smart and funny. He's a good kid. But he should wear adult shoes. And cut his hair. And shower more. And drink less. And keep being awesome.
Now for the awkward segue...
So, this phone call that woke me up this morning? Woke me up at my boyfriend's house. I have a boyfriend. I could explain to you how and when and why. Or I could leave it at that. It's probably more pleasant to leave it at that. Those of you that read this because you know me will facebook me or call or email and ask for explanations. Those of you that read this because the internet is full of idiots tossing their life stories up there for some voyeuristic thrill and it's easy to get sucked in, I'm sorry their aren't more details. But everyone should know these things:
I'm sorry I lied about being lonely.
This isn't the reason my marriage ended.
I'm happy. Having this person in my life makes me really happy.
He's good to me and we have oodles of stuff in common.
He isn't a loser (although he'll be the first to deny this) but he's not a loser by my standards. No drug addiction, no alcoholism, not abusive, has a job.
That job? It's at the same company I work at.
It's not Noah.
The situation is ugly, I know it is. I know explaining it here in skeletal form makes it seem like I'm ashamed of it. I'm not. I'm proud. But I also know that there is a lot of baggage and there are a lot of people who can be hurt or saddened by this. I wanted to wait until I was sure this had some permanence. I didn't want to say "I have a boyfriend" in March only to turn around in April and say "Never mind". So I've had a boyfriend for awhile. He's a good dude. And I like him. I'm lucky.
Alright enough love fest. I'm going to take my muppet and go to bed. Good night Internet.
I'm sitting at my boss' house watching Bruce Springsteen in concert (he's got 6 discs of Springsteen live on his Escient -I'm loving life!). There is a muppet curled up next to my butt. A muppet that was sick this week and that I'm really happy is all better. I'm dog sitting. Which has been torturous with the swimming and hot tubing and reading and watching movies. Somehow I persevere.
I woke up this morning to a panicky call from my friend Em (who is also my boss' daughter) telling me that the muppet was better, but that our friend Noah was in a lot of pain. His cat got out. And since the last cat that got out never came back, he was really fucked up. There was no hesitation, I decided I was going there to help them look. Before I could get out of the shower and on my way Mr. Jim had been found. After Noah called to thank me for offering to come, I burst into tears. The joy in his voice from finding Jim was overwhelming. I love that kid a lot. He's like the little brother I never had. He's a fuck up, don't get me wrong, I know he is, but he's special too. I don't make friends easily or quickly and there was long period of time that I hated that kid (our working relationship is very dependant on one another). But somewhere it became more. He calls me Pennsylvania Mom when I'm mothering him to excess and Doog most other times. He's That Kid when he's done something dumb - like put a sparkler and cigarette out on his leg. Or shaved his whole head but left just a strip of hair off the back so he resembles a Guinea pig. He's mostly My Friend Noah though. We'll always be friends... I believe that. I don't think that they are just words. I'm fortunate to have him in my life. He met my folks and talked baseball with my pop for hours. He was sweet to my mom. He's quiet and sweet and smart and funny. He's a good kid. But he should wear adult shoes. And cut his hair. And shower more. And drink less. And keep being awesome.
Now for the awkward segue...
So, this phone call that woke me up this morning? Woke me up at my boyfriend's house. I have a boyfriend. I could explain to you how and when and why. Or I could leave it at that. It's probably more pleasant to leave it at that. Those of you that read this because you know me will facebook me or call or email and ask for explanations. Those of you that read this because the internet is full of idiots tossing their life stories up there for some voyeuristic thrill and it's easy to get sucked in, I'm sorry their aren't more details. But everyone should know these things:
I'm sorry I lied about being lonely.
This isn't the reason my marriage ended.
I'm happy. Having this person in my life makes me really happy.
He's good to me and we have oodles of stuff in common.
He isn't a loser (although he'll be the first to deny this) but he's not a loser by my standards. No drug addiction, no alcoholism, not abusive, has a job.
That job? It's at the same company I work at.
It's not Noah.
The situation is ugly, I know it is. I know explaining it here in skeletal form makes it seem like I'm ashamed of it. I'm not. I'm proud. But I also know that there is a lot of baggage and there are a lot of people who can be hurt or saddened by this. I wanted to wait until I was sure this had some permanence. I didn't want to say "I have a boyfriend" in March only to turn around in April and say "Never mind". So I've had a boyfriend for awhile. He's a good dude. And I like him. I'm lucky.
Alright enough love fest. I'm going to take my muppet and go to bed. Good night Internet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)