Thursday, December 30, 2010

The Inevitable

Wednesday morning I ran into D on the bus.  It was inevitable and everything went well.  We were comfortable, albeit a little awkward, but that's to be expected.  We chatted the entire ride.

But despite how well the meeting went, it made me sad.


So here's a poem for you to read while I go cry.  It's from the book "count me the stars" by Kylie Johnson (or maybe it's kylie johnson.  I don't know if she does the whole lowercase-e-e-cummings thing) that my mom gave me not too long ago.

Kylie Johnson, count me the stars (2008)

Update 10:01pm: I didn't go have a cry, I decided drinking wine and eating leftover Christmas cookies was a more productive use of my time.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Karaoke was a baaaaad idea

Happy Christmas!!

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday full of presents and family, or church services, or a movie and Chinese food.  I, however, spent my holiday with a cold.  And not a nice one with a couple sneezes here or there, but a full-on cold complete with body aches, a sore throat, an occasional sneeze, itchy eyes, and a stuffy nose.  Because of this unfortunate turn of events, I was stuck with a very difficult choice at Christmas dinner – cold/flu meds or wine?

This was like having to pick one child over the other, if I had children.

So I did what any good parent would do – I picked my favorite.


The after dinner activity for the family was Wii American Idol Karaoke, so I think I chose wisely.  What I did not choose wisely, however, was the song to sing.

I mean, to be fair, I didn’t pick the song.  My aunt did.  And I looked at the song and thought, “oh hey, that’s in my key.  And I know the words.  I can totally sing this with her.”


The song? “Who Knew” by P!nk. 

It hit me about mid-chorus, a minute or two in, what exactly I was singing.


I kept going, kept pushing through.  My aunt had no idea when she picked the song.

Okay, I didn’t cry, thank goodness, but the tears barely stayed in their little ducts before we got to the end of the song.

I’ve been a borderline wreck, emotionally speaking, ever since.  I don’t know whether to blame the poor song choice or the invisible vice around my body made only slightly more bearable with store-brand DayQuil.

I'm blaming the cold meds.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

And next up is a toilet birth, courtesy of TLC

So there’s a funny quirk about me and going through breakups.  In addition to the reliving of “what went wrong” or the “phew it’s done” or the crying or the not sleeping or the what-have-yous, I always think I’m pregnant.

Yeah, no, I’m serious.

If there was any sexual contact during the end of the relationship that could, in the minutest of possibilities, cause a pregnancy, then I am certain that it’s happened to me.  Even if I have no symptoms.

Stop laughing at me.

I don’t know why I do this.  This is actually one of the reasons I don’t get the women on the show “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant.”  I mean, really? Half of them seem to pay no attention to the correlation between their sexual lives and their physical symptoms while I, on the other hand, pay too much attention to mine.  Sometimes I wish I could be more like them, convinced I’m not preggers, free to drink…ok, well, I do that anyway. 

But this time, this most recent breakup, I totally freaked about having a baby.  My boobs were sore.  I was getting weird cramps.  The combination of a lack of appetite and not sleeping well left me nauseated during the day.  I thought to myself, “Well this is shitastic.” So I thought on it some.  And I thought and thought and thought.  Wanna guess what I thought?

And I tried, tried, tried to tell myself I wasn’t pregnant, tried to be like those silly women on TLC or Discovery Health or whatever channel carries that blasted show.  Much as I tried, I kept getting that nagging “what if” in the corner of my mind.  So I did something I’ve never done before.

I marched into Target, bought a store-brand pregnancy test, and unintentionally found The-Clerk-who-has-to-start-a-conversation-about-every-item-you’re-buying.  I went home, waited a few days, and then peed on the stick.

Yes.  That’s correct.  I peed on the stick.

And wow – why have I not been peeing on sticks in previous breakups?!?  I saw that negative result and every nagging voice in my head went away.  It was like POOF!

Just like that, with colors of the nonexistent baby

Then I laughed at myself for actually peeing on the stick, and I was all proud that I had no trouble understanding the result.  (I guess it's really not that hard to understand if you read the instructions first, which I did approximately 4 times before reading them again while peeing on the aforementioned stick, but I'm still damn proud so I get to count those points).

GAWD I’m so weird.  And this is why my mother cannot yet know about this blog.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

I'm so pathetic

I spent this afternoon picking up tape and bows to finish wrapping presents and vising the liquor store to restock my wine.  Discovered there's a rather attractive man who works there, which clearly means I need to start drinking more (or at least buying more alcohol).  But what did I do before going outside to get my Vitamin D?

I watched a full 15 minutes of "Bridalplasty".

That is all.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

All at once the crowd begins to sing

I started the day looking at his toothbrush.  I haven't tossed it yet; it’s still in my bathroom drawer, wrapped in a plastic bag.  I don’t use that drawer for much, but today I needed a round brush to make my hair look all nice and full of body, so I had to dip into the drawer. 

That should have been a clue to me that this would not be a good emotional day.

I spent the day with the madre, who tells me often (read: every time I see her) how much better off I am without D and how clearly he just can’t communicate, and on and on and on.  Then I had to recap the breakup story with my aunt, and oh – met my cousin for lunch and her new FIANCE.

Shoot me now.

I finally broke down this evening, right before leaving for church with my parents, when I was killing time online and saw a gorgeous picture of a man proposing to his gal on The Chive (yeah, I’m totally pimping out The Chive right now.  Whatever.  Just check it out.) I got all sad and mopey and upset, and on the drive home from my parents’ house the song “All At Once” by the Fray came on.

Fuckity fuck fuck, I lost it.  I couldn’t stop crying.  It was awful.  I know it’s only been a week, but I felt like I was past the bawling and crying stage.  I feel like I’ve been handling it so well so far that I feel like I can’t cry about him anymore.  It’s not true, I know it’s not true, and I know it’ll probably take me a while to get to a really good place, but I just can’t stand crying in general and especially not over guys.  I don’t even know why I feel like I’m putting this deadline on myself.  I shouldn’t be in a rush to get over him.  I spent nearly a year with him, so I’m obviously not going to be moving on any time soon.  But I’m still irritated about the whole thing – the breakup, the crying, the potential for seeing D this week on the bus – and I feel like I have to be okay in front of everyone else and bottle up how awful I feel.

Maybe this is the reason it doesn’t yet feel like Christmas to me.  I hope I will by next weekend – can’t believe it’s already Christmas!!


Thursday, December 16, 2010

Classy Lady or Mean Devil?

Ran into one of D's friends today, on the bus.  It could have been awkward, but he's a nice guy, so it was pleasant.  He tried to fish for information at one point, but I did not indulge him.  I'm attempting to take Kate Middleton as my muse and act like a nice, classy lady about the breakup and not talk about D and the split to other people.  (Also, her style).  People who need to know what happened already know.  Since the friend didn't sound like he knew much of anything, someone in D's camp isn't talking much either, so that's nice.  Makes me feel like he felt the breakup was amicable as well.

I thought of that the other day - here I am telling people how amicable and civil the breakup was, and for all I know D thinks I'm the devil and that the breakup was horrible and nasty.

It wasn't.  But you never know how others feel about these things.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Mouse Poops. Yeah. Mouse Poops.

Today was the first work day after the breakup.  I managed to get up and around on time.  I haven't been sleeping well, which made this morning even worse, and I did not want to get out of bed..  But I did it, and I even got to work early.  Which was a very good thing because...


Those aren't chocolate sprinkles

Yeah, that's right.  Mouse poops. On my desk. 

Mouse Poops!!


This was not a happy surprise.  I was one unhappy camper when I got in and found those little poops.  I was seething angry.  I would not be surprised if I went through an entire bottle of 409.  

Okay, not really, but I did use a LOT of 409 to get rid of them.  Blech.  So disgusting.  I know I work in an old, old building, but still.  Last year I had a living cockroach on my desk.  This year I get mouse poops.  WHY??? 

The exterminator is coming tomorrow, and I certainly hope they do something to get rid of the buggers, because I am NOT going home sick with Hantavirus this year. I hear that shit can kill you.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

The obvious solution here is more caffeine

So as of Friday night, I am a single girl.  I'd been dating D for about 10 months before he freaked out about making our commitment a wee bit more serious.  After a month off from each other (his idea, not mine) we parted ways.  It was as mutual a breakup at any breakup could be, and ultimately it was the right decision.  We clearly weren't on the same page about where we wanted the relationship to go, and I think everyone can agree that moving forward in a relationship when you're not on the same page with each other is a recipe for disaster.

That doesn't make the breakup any easier, though.

Well, okay, maybe a little. I mean, I did have a month away from him to realize that yes, I will be okay.  I'm strong, and I'm young, and a New Year is right around the corner.  But hot damn it's taking a lot of effort to do ANYTHING these few days immediately after.  I'm happy I still have one more weekend day, today, before heading back to work.  It's been a long time since I've had to deal with a breakup, and I forgot how draining those first few days can be.  Geezalou.  I'm happy I have caffeinated coffee.  And wine. (But not together. Eww.)  I think I'm going to need a few more minutes in the morning tomorrow to get myself ready to head to work.  And way more coffee.  Maybe I'll just make a pot at the office.

No, I can't do that.  Everyone else will drink it.

I think I'm coping okay.  I'm getting out of the house, if only for small amounts of time.  I'm making plans.  I'm listening to Cee-Lo's "Fuck You" over and over.  (Side Note - how awesome is this song?) If any of you have suggestions on other fun ways to get over someone, send them my way.  I'm sure I can put them to good use.

Thanks and love,

Saturday, December 11, 2010

The Folly of One is born

Dear Internet,

I hope you're ready, because here it is - a blog devoted to my sad, poor, pathetic dating life. Except, it's not really sad, poor, or pathetic.  It's rich and amusing, oftentimes good for a laugh, but more often than not it illicits groans and eye rolls.

So here it is, my attempt at moving on after a breakup and documenting the hilariousness that is dating and courting in the 21st Century.  Because if I can't laugh at it, I'll probably just cry.