So, I recovered from my initial outrage after the events of yesterday. That was bad, and I'm sorry for venting all of those frustrations on you guys. In a pretty much overwrought,holier-than-thou attitude. I mean, come on. The girl is obviously doing some maintenance.
At least she didn't break up with me in a text message, a la Sarah (a.k.a. Sarah-bellum, a.k.a. Snakecharmer) breaking up with Coley yesterday. This, my friends, is absolutely hilarious.
So, Sarah and Coley have been dating for about about two months or so, sleeping together for maybe half that. Relatively close. He took her to meet the parents, which this guy never-ever does. He met hers. So, a little more than just sleeping together, but not committed or anything. Either way, he's talking to her yesterday while she's at the beach with her friends. He's gotta work, but wants to hang out later and she said great, I'll give you a call later. Ends the phone conversation.
Five minutes later he gets a T9 (that's text message for short, fellow luddites)saying, and I quote: "Coley, I don't want to see you again. It was fun. Bye." A model of austerity and succinct emotional purging. Wait. Was there any emotion involved in that statement? Let's review. Nope. So, Coley thinks it's a joke perpetrated by one of her friends, and understandably so. Calls back a little later, as he's trying to get ready for work, and she answers the phone. Here goes:
"Hello?"
"Sarah?"
"Yeah?"
"It's Coley..."
"Hey."
"So... I got a funny message. Did you send me one?"
"Yeah."
"Ummmm... were you serious?"
"Yeah (toe-tapping in the background, followed by impatient sigh)..."
"Soooo..."
"So what?"
Coley, at this point, just starts laughing. What else can you do?
"Why are you laughing?" she asks, kind of angrily.
"Because that's fucked up...and you're fucked up too!"
Wow. On the brighter side, he's got a story to tell forever, or at least for as long as he's trying to pick up girls. And there's no flip-flopping or wavering allowed, not with that kind of period at the end of the sentence. And he was already cheating (cheating? I think you have to be more serious than they were to call it cheating) on her anyway, last friday actually. One the same couch I was trying, unsuccessfully, to pass out on while battling the dry heaves. Errrgggh... That just makes me nauseous. The sounds of other people kissing have got to be among the worst and most unneccessary sounds that one could possibly hear. Errrgggh...
7.21.2005
7.20.2005
Friendster strikes back...
Seriously guys, I'm not really sure how picking up thirdhand information off of friendster became my only way of knowing what's going on in Kristin's life, but it did, and now I have to decide why I'm even keeping up with it. Morbid curiosity? Well, I am curious, but not morbidly so. Not even overly so. Gluttony for punishment? Anyone who knows me knows that that is not even close to the case. Pathetic attachment issues? Those were all settled a long time ago.
No, I just wanted to keep in touch, stay on the radar, so to speak. Although she seems determined to erase me from her life and I can't even comprehend why. I mean, when we were dating, she would talk to her xbf once a month, maybe a couple times. I'm not even close to that. Trouble is, no kind of satisfactory resolution can come from someone who won't even acknowledge what is or was really going on. All it can be is just telling the sky, or the rain, and accept that there is no response, no answer for the questions I've got. Not now.
Just taking my testimonial off of her profile just absolutely stunned me. It was worse than seeing that she's in a relationship. I mean, I expected that on some level, it was inevitable. But to just delete the most sincere and heartfelt expression of how I feel about her as a person, and a friend... it's kind of the breaking point. I don't know how to not take it so personally. I don't know how else to take it except as a simple message that I'm not a part of her life anymore, and shouldn't try to be.
It hurts beneath my left collarbone, and along my rib cage. There's something up in there that really doesn't like this at all.
So, there's really only one phone call left to make. A quick one. It shouldn't take long for me to say what I have to say. And if what friendster is telling me is correct, then there won't be anything much from her to hear. You don't talk to ghosts.
No, I just wanted to keep in touch, stay on the radar, so to speak. Although she seems determined to erase me from her life and I can't even comprehend why. I mean, when we were dating, she would talk to her xbf once a month, maybe a couple times. I'm not even close to that. Trouble is, no kind of satisfactory resolution can come from someone who won't even acknowledge what is or was really going on. All it can be is just telling the sky, or the rain, and accept that there is no response, no answer for the questions I've got. Not now.
Just taking my testimonial off of her profile just absolutely stunned me. It was worse than seeing that she's in a relationship. I mean, I expected that on some level, it was inevitable. But to just delete the most sincere and heartfelt expression of how I feel about her as a person, and a friend... it's kind of the breaking point. I don't know how to not take it so personally. I don't know how else to take it except as a simple message that I'm not a part of her life anymore, and shouldn't try to be.
It hurts beneath my left collarbone, and along my rib cage. There's something up in there that really doesn't like this at all.
So, there's really only one phone call left to make. A quick one. It shouldn't take long for me to say what I have to say. And if what friendster is telling me is correct, then there won't be anything much from her to hear. You don't talk to ghosts.
7.12.2005
What the Bobby Abreu?
It's been too long, I know. I was never good at keeping a diary as a kid, or a journal as a somewhat older kid. I don't know why I thought I could keep this blog in any kind of resemblance of a current state of affairs. Hence the timely title, because Holy Shit, if you did not see Abreu in the home run derby last night, then you missed something historic and spectacular.
Not to knock on you if you were watching the Lifetime Original Movie, or if you were reading the fifth Harry Potter book in preparation for the sixth to come out on Friday night at Midnight. Or if you were doing anything productive, like paying bills or apologizing to all your friends for the jackassery of last weekend. I just feel bad for you that you missed it. Absolutely crushing the ball.
The last couple weeks have been half past rowdy. Fourth of July weekend was great, as usual. We burned a couple of holes through the dock up at Diamond with some serious mortar shells. I slept not at all. Hit a grand slam in Wiffle Ball at the annual Inwood Wiffle World Series, while getting sunburned and drinking orange hurricane Boone's farm straight from the bottle. Wore clothes.
Faith and I hooked up again. A couple of times. We slept over at her parents' house in the guest room, in a bed with no sheets, only a mattress pad and a dust cover. Not very comfortable, but that didn't matter in the least. Waking up next to her and making the bed together... priceless. Faith is... well, she's one of my oldest friends, and there's always been something there. We were, and continue to be, really bad at timing. It only makes sense that, now, I'm moving to Nashville in four weeks, and things are really good. whatever. If I've picked up anything over the past few hellish months, it's patience. Time will go on, even if you don't want to.
I drove up to Chicago last weekend to see Keith and also Faith. Keith made probably the best salmon I've ever had, and then we went to the bar he works at, which I used to work at, although they've hired dozens of new people and it's kind of surreal to hang out there. Lots of drinks. Faith was having a crisis and called me to talk it over. It's...she's... worried, I guess, we all should be, but the lifestyle which we live is heavily predicated on drinking and dancing and laughing and trying to have as much fun as possible. Which can be a problem. But I mean seriously, when else are we going to be able to enjoy this amount of freedom and irresposibility? Irresponsibility being one of those things that I enjoy immensely.
Not to knock on you if you were watching the Lifetime Original Movie, or if you were reading the fifth Harry Potter book in preparation for the sixth to come out on Friday night at Midnight. Or if you were doing anything productive, like paying bills or apologizing to all your friends for the jackassery of last weekend. I just feel bad for you that you missed it. Absolutely crushing the ball.
The last couple weeks have been half past rowdy. Fourth of July weekend was great, as usual. We burned a couple of holes through the dock up at Diamond with some serious mortar shells. I slept not at all. Hit a grand slam in Wiffle Ball at the annual Inwood Wiffle World Series, while getting sunburned and drinking orange hurricane Boone's farm straight from the bottle. Wore clothes.
Faith and I hooked up again. A couple of times. We slept over at her parents' house in the guest room, in a bed with no sheets, only a mattress pad and a dust cover. Not very comfortable, but that didn't matter in the least. Waking up next to her and making the bed together... priceless. Faith is... well, she's one of my oldest friends, and there's always been something there. We were, and continue to be, really bad at timing. It only makes sense that, now, I'm moving to Nashville in four weeks, and things are really good. whatever. If I've picked up anything over the past few hellish months, it's patience. Time will go on, even if you don't want to.
I drove up to Chicago last weekend to see Keith and also Faith. Keith made probably the best salmon I've ever had, and then we went to the bar he works at, which I used to work at, although they've hired dozens of new people and it's kind of surreal to hang out there. Lots of drinks. Faith was having a crisis and called me to talk it over. It's...she's... worried, I guess, we all should be, but the lifestyle which we live is heavily predicated on drinking and dancing and laughing and trying to have as much fun as possible. Which can be a problem. But I mean seriously, when else are we going to be able to enjoy this amount of freedom and irresposibility? Irresponsibility being one of those things that I enjoy immensely.
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