So I'm doing great. If you don't count the fact that my white tank top smells like stanky too long in the washing machine poo. And I didn't notice until I was at work. And I didn't do it! In fact, I saved these whites from the washing machine, after SOMEONE ELSE forgot to remove them.
Things to buy:
Nothing. I already bought everything.
so
Things to remove from his area of the house:
Dirty clothes hamper
white towels
I purchased a cute new shower curtain last night, inspired by the super funky shower curtain in a bathroom I saw Saturday night.
New things to try this week:
Italian restaurant I've been talking about FOR EV ER.
Meals from a roasted chicken from the grocery store
Taking a half day for a "spa" day (massage AND pedicure)
Monday, April 30, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
It's the company you keep.
I spent time with an old friend last night.
I grew up with this person. Not in the sense that I knew him for my whole life. But I knew him when it was most important.
We met in Eighth Grade, history class. He sat in front of me and drove me nuts. I, quite possibly, was mean to him. I could've thought nasty thoughts about him. But at some point he offered me a red lifesaver, and I really wanted the cherry lifesaver, so I agreed to marry him.
Senior year in high school I watched him get forceably removed from a New Years Eve party, after he was standing up for his best friend, to a guy who was eventually a Defensive Back for The Ohio State University. Again, his mouth got him in trouble, this time it was a pick up by the belt loops and toss into the snow.
June, after graduation, we ended up getting lunch together. Twice. Once it was 3pm. It was my first interaction with the freedom I would have in college. I can eat when I want? Really? After the second lunch, we hugged, and I kissed him on the neck. Not sure why. It just seemed right.
Maybe a day later, he kissed me at a party, after I went upstairs to get away from ridiculous arguing amongst people below. We both knew it was life changing. That sounds really overly-dramatic. But it really was. You know, maybe I feel that way more than he does. I don't know. We haven't talked that much about it. Although today, driving back from spending about 24 hours with him as real adults, I can see how I went through a lot of experiences with him. A lot of stuff I wouldn't take back, eventhough some were mistakes.
His offer to cheer me up, take me away from all of the stuff I am going through in my own town, was really special to me. It reminded me of his willingness to run his mouth, for someone he cared for, even if it would send him into the front porch snowbank. Not that I would get him in trouble in anyway, but his loyalty to me as a friend, still, just moves me to tears. I knew I would always love him. And it is still true.
You know, I don't remember details about relationships as much as I do with him. Something about that summer, about the first year of college, about trying to make a long distance relationship work, sticks with me.
I took my first pregnancy test with him. My only pregnancy test. Or if there was another, I don't remember it. (See!) We reminisced last night about the first time we ever drove through Cincinnati as 19 year olds. We were playing dress-up for a university dance, which we never made it to, and went to Mortons for dinner. A lot of my appreciation for everything pleasurable comes from my time with him. But along the lines of that fumbling trip through the city, we fumbled back to a grocery store because I told him about my worry. And he bought the test. And when we talked last night, he remembered with precision the checkout counter and conversation that ensued. Am I delusional to think it was more than the damn pregnancy test that makes him recall it all so vividly?
The first time I ever traveled to stay in a city with a boyfriend, was with him. We went to Boston. He treated me like a princess. We had amazing food. Walked the city. And I didn't feel like I was only 19 or 20. I had sea bass in one restaurant, which was near a church, and it had a purple fluorescent sign. Our Concierge made recomendations and reservations for us. We watched the sunrise on the beach in New Hampshire. There was a blanket, and other things, and we walked the boardwalk after and ate breakfast at a little diner. Even after we broke up, we said we'd go back in five years if we weren't with people. When the five years came around, I was getting married. I'm pretty sure he was with someone too.
It is obvoius we were not supposed to be together forever, looking back, it was me who made that initial decision. That is not what this is about at all. But it is about people and the imprints they leave on you forever. The idea that we become people based on interactions and relationships. I am a better person because of him. I can't really say that about the person I am leaving behind. And that is where my heart breaks. Because six years changed me from that person I was before; the person I really enjoyed being.
It is scary being open. Raw. I have read and reread this post multiple times, not wanting to sound sad or sappy or psycho, for that matter. Because I am not. I am letting myself feel this freedom and acknowledging what it shows me. This is all what I saw today.
I grew up with this person. Not in the sense that I knew him for my whole life. But I knew him when it was most important.
We met in Eighth Grade, history class. He sat in front of me and drove me nuts. I, quite possibly, was mean to him. I could've thought nasty thoughts about him. But at some point he offered me a red lifesaver, and I really wanted the cherry lifesaver, so I agreed to marry him.
Senior year in high school I watched him get forceably removed from a New Years Eve party, after he was standing up for his best friend, to a guy who was eventually a Defensive Back for The Ohio State University. Again, his mouth got him in trouble, this time it was a pick up by the belt loops and toss into the snow.
June, after graduation, we ended up getting lunch together. Twice. Once it was 3pm. It was my first interaction with the freedom I would have in college. I can eat when I want? Really? After the second lunch, we hugged, and I kissed him on the neck. Not sure why. It just seemed right.
Maybe a day later, he kissed me at a party, after I went upstairs to get away from ridiculous arguing amongst people below. We both knew it was life changing. That sounds really overly-dramatic. But it really was. You know, maybe I feel that way more than he does. I don't know. We haven't talked that much about it. Although today, driving back from spending about 24 hours with him as real adults, I can see how I went through a lot of experiences with him. A lot of stuff I wouldn't take back, eventhough some were mistakes.
His offer to cheer me up, take me away from all of the stuff I am going through in my own town, was really special to me. It reminded me of his willingness to run his mouth, for someone he cared for, even if it would send him into the front porch snowbank. Not that I would get him in trouble in anyway, but his loyalty to me as a friend, still, just moves me to tears. I knew I would always love him. And it is still true.
You know, I don't remember details about relationships as much as I do with him. Something about that summer, about the first year of college, about trying to make a long distance relationship work, sticks with me.
I took my first pregnancy test with him. My only pregnancy test. Or if there was another, I don't remember it. (See!) We reminisced last night about the first time we ever drove through Cincinnati as 19 year olds. We were playing dress-up for a university dance, which we never made it to, and went to Mortons for dinner. A lot of my appreciation for everything pleasurable comes from my time with him. But along the lines of that fumbling trip through the city, we fumbled back to a grocery store because I told him about my worry. And he bought the test. And when we talked last night, he remembered with precision the checkout counter and conversation that ensued. Am I delusional to think it was more than the damn pregnancy test that makes him recall it all so vividly?
The first time I ever traveled to stay in a city with a boyfriend, was with him. We went to Boston. He treated me like a princess. We had amazing food. Walked the city. And I didn't feel like I was only 19 or 20. I had sea bass in one restaurant, which was near a church, and it had a purple fluorescent sign. Our Concierge made recomendations and reservations for us. We watched the sunrise on the beach in New Hampshire. There was a blanket, and other things, and we walked the boardwalk after and ate breakfast at a little diner. Even after we broke up, we said we'd go back in five years if we weren't with people. When the five years came around, I was getting married. I'm pretty sure he was with someone too.
It is obvoius we were not supposed to be together forever, looking back, it was me who made that initial decision. That is not what this is about at all. But it is about people and the imprints they leave on you forever. The idea that we become people based on interactions and relationships. I am a better person because of him. I can't really say that about the person I am leaving behind. And that is where my heart breaks. Because six years changed me from that person I was before; the person I really enjoyed being.
It is scary being open. Raw. I have read and reread this post multiple times, not wanting to sound sad or sappy or psycho, for that matter. Because I am not. I am letting myself feel this freedom and acknowledging what it shows me. This is all what I saw today.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Old Moo Train
Southwest Airlines
Baltimore
Train to DC
Two nights in Georgetown
Going to museums with my ipod
ALL ALONE
Yes. All alone.
I bought a plane ticket and made a hotel registration for June. It is going to be pivotal. It is going to be huge!
Baltimore
Train to DC
Two nights in Georgetown
Going to museums with my ipod
ALL ALONE
Yes. All alone.
I bought a plane ticket and made a hotel registration for June. It is going to be pivotal. It is going to be huge!
In Laws Know...
I have not spoken with them. I have not even spoken with my own family. I don't know what I am waiting for. If it is the sale of our house, I shall be waiting for a long time. Nothing is moving. The one bite we had, turned out to be worried about the "golf course situation".
We live on a course. Not on the course, but across the street from people on the course. Nobody pees in our yard. I have never found a ball on the deck. We are safe. And the course is semi-private. And the course owners went bankrupt. But the course was purchased by a 50 something couple who, "have always wanted to own a golf course." Needless to say, I hope they are smart!
So far, the course is open, has a whole list of plans to bring it up to (pardon the pun) par, and they actually got a great chef to get the restaurant open (Spagio! sweet!). So the golf course is safe, but sure enough, not a single home sold while that drama was going on. I hope word gets out it is not going to turn into blowing weeds and government subsidized housing.
Where was I? Oh yes, why I haven't spoken to family. I just don't want people telling me what to do. Or trying to dig me out. I do not want help. I just want to get through this and come out the other end a better person.
If not a better person, surely in a better situation! HE got home yesterday at 10pm or so. Started thawing ground beef under running hot water, while the omelete pan was scorching on the burner. I didn't want to talk to him, but the sight of my Calphalon pan on the burner, smoking, made me twitch. Not to mention his solution was to pour olive oil into it.
And of course, I can't leave it at "Just turn the burner off, it is smoking!"
No.
I have to let him know that I know that he has been surfing for chicks since FEBRUARY!
Nice.
I asked him on Friday if he had created a registration again, or "re-registered." He said no.
His reason for, to me, lying, was, "This is why I am smarter than you; I answer the question asked."
Excellent. Can you see why I am not exactly sad?
We live on a course. Not on the course, but across the street from people on the course. Nobody pees in our yard. I have never found a ball on the deck. We are safe. And the course is semi-private. And the course owners went bankrupt. But the course was purchased by a 50 something couple who, "have always wanted to own a golf course." Needless to say, I hope they are smart!
So far, the course is open, has a whole list of plans to bring it up to (pardon the pun) par, and they actually got a great chef to get the restaurant open (Spagio! sweet!). So the golf course is safe, but sure enough, not a single home sold while that drama was going on. I hope word gets out it is not going to turn into blowing weeds and government subsidized housing.
Where was I? Oh yes, why I haven't spoken to family. I just don't want people telling me what to do. Or trying to dig me out. I do not want help. I just want to get through this and come out the other end a better person.
If not a better person, surely in a better situation! HE got home yesterday at 10pm or so. Started thawing ground beef under running hot water, while the omelete pan was scorching on the burner. I didn't want to talk to him, but the sight of my Calphalon pan on the burner, smoking, made me twitch. Not to mention his solution was to pour olive oil into it.
And of course, I can't leave it at "Just turn the burner off, it is smoking!"
No.
I have to let him know that I know that he has been surfing for chicks since FEBRUARY!
Nice.
I asked him on Friday if he had created a registration again, or "re-registered." He said no.
His reason for, to me, lying, was, "This is why I am smarter than you; I answer the question asked."
Excellent. Can you see why I am not exactly sad?
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Day 5
I've decided to start creating blog posts, and post them when I am ready.
I made another move, putting me closer to actually living upstairs. I moved all of my toiletries into the upstairs bathroom. The shower isn't miserable, the shower curtain is old and stupid. No different when I am getting ready, aside from the fact that I don't have to see him naked in the shower. When I am almost ready, he had been coming in to shower. I had been pretty careful about not walking around in said natural state...he doesn't care.
You know, seeing him naked wasn't some ridiculously HOT occasion. Just unfortunate.
Today I am making a REVENGE dinner. I am using my CROCKPOT to make dinner. He is welcome to eat from it, but he hates the crockpot and how meat comes out. I love it. I love my crockpot. I am going to use it once a week now, because FUCK HIM! That felt good.
As it will hopefully be obvious, I am taking full advantage of starting over. It is more like rediscovering all of the things that I forgot I enjoyed. Like sleeping with the windows open. Reading in bed before falling asleep. Drinking coffee in bed while reading in the morning. These are all things that I loved doing in the summer, but I still was awoken every morning by the television and lulled to sleep everynight by an old MASH, NYPD Blue, or West Wing episode.
Day 3 I went to dinner by myself. I wanted Caesar salad from Le Chatelaine. I sat outside and ate, grading a couple papers in between a couple raindrops that fell. But just a couple. I am thinking about taking a trip alone. These cheap Skybus airfares, the NEW Moo Train, are so tempting. I don't think I've ever made decision without wondering what people would say/think. These seems like the perfect time to start that.
Day 2 we golfed. I cried twice. Frustration from a crappy shot, tied into the ridiculousness of "this is the last time we'll ever golf together." Not to mention another two-some joined us, and it was like pretending to be married again. Again you say? See Day 1.
Day 1 I had to pretend to be married while eating with the inlaws. He had to pretend more, as he had already taken his wedding ring off and had to put it on a couple blocks before their house. He literally said, "3-2-1" as he put it on. I think his wedding ring came off Friday. Before work. Before he told me he was done trying.
I made another move, putting me closer to actually living upstairs. I moved all of my toiletries into the upstairs bathroom. The shower isn't miserable, the shower curtain is old and stupid. No different when I am getting ready, aside from the fact that I don't have to see him naked in the shower. When I am almost ready, he had been coming in to shower. I had been pretty careful about not walking around in said natural state...he doesn't care.
You know, seeing him naked wasn't some ridiculously HOT occasion. Just unfortunate.
Today I am making a REVENGE dinner. I am using my CROCKPOT to make dinner. He is welcome to eat from it, but he hates the crockpot and how meat comes out. I love it. I love my crockpot. I am going to use it once a week now, because FUCK HIM! That felt good.
As it will hopefully be obvious, I am taking full advantage of starting over. It is more like rediscovering all of the things that I forgot I enjoyed. Like sleeping with the windows open. Reading in bed before falling asleep. Drinking coffee in bed while reading in the morning. These are all things that I loved doing in the summer, but I still was awoken every morning by the television and lulled to sleep everynight by an old MASH, NYPD Blue, or West Wing episode.
Day 3 I went to dinner by myself. I wanted Caesar salad from Le Chatelaine. I sat outside and ate, grading a couple papers in between a couple raindrops that fell. But just a couple. I am thinking about taking a trip alone. These cheap Skybus airfares, the NEW Moo Train, are so tempting. I don't think I've ever made decision without wondering what people would say/think. These seems like the perfect time to start that.
Day 2 we golfed. I cried twice. Frustration from a crappy shot, tied into the ridiculousness of "this is the last time we'll ever golf together." Not to mention another two-some joined us, and it was like pretending to be married again. Again you say? See Day 1.
Day 1 I had to pretend to be married while eating with the inlaws. He had to pretend more, as he had already taken his wedding ring off and had to put it on a couple blocks before their house. He literally said, "3-2-1" as he put it on. I think his wedding ring came off Friday. Before work. Before he told me he was done trying.
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