DUST

It felt like he was finally giving me a piece of himself. After keeping it so tight in his grasp for these years, he was letting go of a piece of himself. And for once in our relationship, I was taking it.
As I drove across the bridge, it all seemed surreal, the fog, the headlights, the salty air, the soft kiss on the forehead. I knew what it all meant and I think he did too. He could always read me like a book, even when I wanted to keep him guessing. This time it really was like taking a piece of him. I knew how much that truck meant to him, almost more than I ever did.
He hadn’t been able to get me to the airport, so I was taking the truck and one of the guys would take him to get it after their morning run. It was cool, the way foggy mornings are, but with a warm salty breeze blowing in off the bay. He was dressed in his Navy-issued pants and a dust-colored T-shirt, appropriate after the days we spent in the desert, I thought. The black letters across his chest spelled out Lee, his last name, to distinguish him from the other guys, and in the fog, it would have been hard, even for me to tell. I thought about how it would never be my last name. It was the first time I had seen him dressed for action, even if it was just for his morning P. T. session. He looked like he was in his element, and for the first time, he seemed to fit in to his surroundings. It almost made me want to be a part of his perfect world, be the perfect girl, waiting for her brave sailor to come home to her. But I wasn’t, if I had ever been, I definitely wasn’t anymore. IT had changed, everything had.
He had told me that he would be picking me up at the curb. Being the diehard romantic, I had hoped for the hugging-at-the-gate-where-have-you-been-my-whole-life greeting. Being Mr. Practical, he said that it was much more romantic if he picked me up at the curb because then I wouldn’t have to haul my luggage across the parking lot. I told him he never could distinguish between romance and practicality. In the end, he gave in to me; he was waiting at baggage claim. He smiled a knowing and comfortable smile and then gave me a where-have-you-been-its-been-too-long hug. “I guess this’ll have to do, “ I thought.
He offered to pull my luggage for me, and uttered an entirely too nonchalant, “Hey why don’t we go fuck” comment. I decided maybe I should pull my own luggage.
Before I committed to the trip, I had explained to him that we weren’t just getting back together. This trip was happening because we were still close and before we broke up, I had said that I would come while he was in school. I had never been to California and I knew how lonely he was. I was always curious about new places, and never wanted to think of him lonesome, so I had agreed to come. It seemed to be understood that it wasn’t going to be us sinking in to our old roles. Him driving with his hand on my knee while I scanned the radio stations, breakfasts at IHOP, lunches of energy bars, and dinners at Outback. These things irked me now, while before I had become comfortable with them, they were a charming part or who he was, or who we were when we were together. Lately I had been realizing that they were really just who he was.
When we got to the car, he loaded my things in the truck, and opened my door for me. Chivalrous at best, he always knew when to give in to me, and when to push my buttons, at least enough to get what he wanted. When he closed his door, and started the truck, he took a few seconds to look at me, as if it was sinking in that I was really there. It was an awkward silence, and then he kissed me an abrupt, passionate, but poorly timed kiss. It only felt over-calculated, like he had been planning it from the day he found out I was coming. He often pursued me the way he thought I wanted to be pursued, instead of the way he wanted to be pursued. It only made me feel as though I were being duped. When I pulled away from him, he looked at me a few more seconds and said flatly, “I don’t kiss in airports.”
For the past two years, Ken and I had been everything the other needed. When I needed distance, he stayed away. When he needed someone to come to him, I did. It just worked that way. It wasn’t ever the love story type of love, but it was something. It was the first time someone didn’t try to pressure me into more of a relationship, and it was the first time a girl had wanted to take it slowly with him. It took me a year to introduce him as my boyfriend, and he rarely complained. Our relationship started out as basic long-distance, a two hour drive, but after the 9/11 attacks, he reenlisted in the military and we became a full-fledged long-distance relationship. After he left, we seemed to have a closer bond, absence truly did make the heart grow fonder, it seemed. We saw each other every month until he got the orders to go to California. It was always a fairy tale weekend of camping, beaches, concerts, movies, holding hands, kissing, laughing over beers, miniature golf, hiking, kayaking, fucking, flirting, driving, posing for pictures, finishing each other’s sentences, laughing at each other’s jokes, and enjoying each other’s company, all the things that were missing from my every day life. The things I had deemed unnecessary to have a normal life, but they made me feel so normal when we did them together. It was like I was playing house.
When he found out about California, I found out that he had refused to stay in Virginia. He had chosen to go to California, not because I wasn’t there, but he certainly wasn’t staying because I was closer to here. They only offered his school there, and that was what he wanted. We decided that it just couldn’t be, that since we had always been a practical relationship, it was practical to let it die at this. I told him he was the practical one, I was just a romantic. He said he just kept me grounded. We both cried, and with that, it was over.
He called me when he came home, on the way to California; he said we could go paddling, just as friends, just to enjoy each other’s company, just like old times, only newer. We fought to stay ourselves, and not become us again. As we drove, I ignored the radio, afraid I would instinctively press “scan” and wait for something good, or lose my attention span and just let three seconds of everything race by us. He leaned towards the door, driving with his right hand, fighting to keep it off my knee. We laughed at jokes, but not too hard, and we hugged, but not too closely. It seemed as though we were sinking into new roles, as friends. He thought we should have the talk, the one where we rationalize why we couldn’t be together and where we explain that we would always be close, we were meant to always know each other. We both cried, and seeing him cry in front of me let me see a side of him I hadn’t been shown. Leave it to him to start sharing as soon as it was over.

Nervous Tension...Hahahahahahahahaha

Your Birthdate: March 22

While sometimes employing unorthodox approaches, you are capable of handling large scale undertakings. You assume great responsibility and work long and hard toward completion. Often, especially in the early part of life, there is rigidity or stubbornness, and a tendency to repress feelings. Idealistic, you work for the greater good with a good deal of inner strength and charisma. An extremely capable organizer, but likely to paint with broad strokes rather than detail. You are very aware and intuitive. You are subject to a good deal of nervous tension.

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

Do NOT go to Gatlinburg while there is a Rod Run in Pigeon Forge

"We'll just run up there real quickly. There won't be a big crowd since its the Tennessee - Florida game." I couldn't have been more wrong! It too almost ten hours to "run" to Gatlinburg and back. All for a bottle of hot sauce. I love my brother and he better know it! He did end up getting four bottles of hot sauce so I can't say he wasn't excited once we got there.

I saw thousands of people sitting in camp chairs watching the traffic back up. Wow. Talk about having NOTHING to do on a Saturday. These people had so little to do, staring into traffic sounded like fun.

Oh well, at least I can say I have now been to a Rod Run. There were neat cars there, but it did not warrant sitting in the heat all day watching traffic. I wondered who else was accidentally caught in the mess or if we were the only ones.

We did get some killer hot sauce and it was interesting to people watch, so all was not lost. At least not until AFTER the Tennessee-Florida game.

Zack and A.C. say...

Long time coming....

Well, well, well. Look who's here. I know, I know, I haven't posted in a million years, but I'm here now, and I've got something to say. Well not really.

Katrina damage makes me sad. the giving attitude of Americans makes me happy. I'm glad that Sean Penn finally did something that makes me like him more, or should I say, hate him less. He was actually down there in the trenches attempting to help. Its not often that you see a celebrity actually DOING something. Sure Oprah was there, but what did she do? Brought media attention to New Orleans? I think it was already there. Media attention was NOT what they needed. They needed and need people working to get things done. Celine Dion gave a million dollars. Damn, I don't think I am physically and emotionally able to hate her less, but I will now try.

TGIF

What a dorky thing to say "TGIF"! But seriously, Thank God Its Friday! This has been a really long week, but yippee, its over. I am going to attempt to do absolutely nothing all weekend. If I had my druthers, I would slow my heart rate to that of hibernating bears. Just enough to not die.
Anyone that knows me, knows that this is an impossible feat for me. I might as well say I am going to fly to Saturn and pick out a ring. I NEVER do nothing. I do hope to do minimal work and have maximum fun. Of course, proportionately, I have minimal funds for said maximum fun. So, what! You can have fun without money. Maybe I will go play Frisbee golf. Maybe I will go swimming somewhere. Maybe, just maybe I will do all my laundry. Oh wait, that isn't fun. It is fun to have an actual choice when looking for outfits to wear while having maximum fun, but I digress. Maybe I will post to my blog every 4 hours. Maybe I will finish my David Sedaris book. Maybe I will call all the people I love that I don't talk to nearly enough and tell them exactly how much they mean to me. Maybe I won't do any of this, but I will do something..or nothing.

Guilty Pleasure

I love Fark.com. It is one of my favorite things in the world. I literally hurry to check it out every morning. Not only does it have breaking news, before I could find it anywhere else, but it has hilarious headliines for the links. This is how it works. People submit links to Fark, they can be for news stories or interesting websites, and when they submit the ad, they choose a tag and a headline for the link. Tags can be Ironic, Sad, Breaking News, Sick, Amusing, Interesting, Scary, among others, even Florida has its own tag. There are tags for gratuitous nudity named Boobies and Weeners. The headlines people submit often make me laugh out loud. Some examples:

Scientists discover two new species of lemur in
Madagascar. Originally thought they had three, but it was just Ryan Seacrest on
vacation

Red-headed women feel less pain. Researchers also confirm
fat-bottomed women still make the rockin' world go round

Hallmark finally relieved to finally have a customer for their unique "Sorry I
accidentally stabbed you" get-well soon cards

Evading the police during a chase: Cool. Being arrested by the dogcatcher: Priceless

NASA prepares latest Mars orbiter for launch, hopes to someday return Courtney Love to her home planet.

Oliver Stone pleads no contest to being Oliver Stoned,
claims grassy knoll source of trouble

Fark is definitely my choice for my desert island website. Now I realize that you would think that if I were on a desert island and could only access one website, I would choose something that could get me rescued, but nope. I like Fark that much. So check it out. You'll laugh. And you'll thank me.

Mondays

Do Mondays ever get easier? I am exhausted and distracted. I can't even put sentences together. Usually they just flow out of my brain, almost faster than my hands can type, but today, even my words are stalled.

Some things are better than coffee

I am not a morning person. I could stay wrapped up in my comforter for hours after I wake up. It doesn't matter how much sleep I have gotten, I still want to stay in bed. By the time I get out of bed, I have to rush around the house getting ready in a haze so that I can make it to work on time. I realize this isn't the best way to start a day, but when I am curled up smacking the snooze button, my brain doesn't seem to care.

I am never late to work, well I suppose I should say I am rarely late to work. Between my mom and my friend calling me this morning, my routine was thrown off. And by thrown off, I mean five minutes. You see, I live less than two miles from my office, so I don't have the traffic equation to worry about. I can leave my house and be at work within single-digit minutes. Even so, I was five minutes late. And for someone who is never late to work, it tends to start the morning on the wrong foot.

When I arrived at my desk, my boss was sitting at my computer. Ugh. That can't be good. But it wasn't bad, she didn't even notice, or didn't care. I do love my job. My computer has been updated the most recently so mine was faster than hers and she was taking advantage of it.

I sat down at my computer to an inbox with actual emails to me, not forwarded, in it. Some were even thoughtfully written. I read them all, then started back at the top re-reading them before constructing my replies. After I replied to my emails, and tackled the inbox, I was on my way to the coffee machine to help me become more than the shell of a human I am BEFORE my coffee.

Then, the phone rang.

No news

No news is supposed to be good news. There are times when that addage doesn't really apply. Like, for instance, when you are expecting to hear from someone, and you don't. That clearly isn't good news. It either means that they are dead, in a ditch, or that it hasn't crossed their mind to give you a call. And if they haven't thought to give you a call, then you probably haven't really crossed their mind at all. And that is NEVER good news.

So, I wait. For what I am waiting, I don't know. The phone will not ring. I do not have mail. I suppose I wait to realize it.

San Marcos #1

I saw your face in another’s tonight. His smile was yours, crooked and sincere. Slightly slouched and layered never trendy but very fashionable. I miss the way you made me feel. I miss being in on a secret. Sure it was our secret, but it was you and it was me. I miss being with someone who gets it, someone who gets me, like you did. I will never know why we came together. Two people who would have never connected in any predictable story, but we did connect. You got my jokes and I understood your paranoid schizophrenia. Fair enough, I guess. Your sly smile always hid your mischief and your self-doubt, never fully disclosing which the initial intended secret was.

Here is some stuff I like

Online Dating

I am among the billions of single people in the world, and among the 8 million people on Match.com. I have gotten so many laughs from it. It is amazing what people will just come right out and say. "Married guy seeks fun..." Who answers that kind of ad? "Likes to go DOWNTOWN *wink" Ewww, gross.

I am having a hard time getting over the stigma of online dating. I still imagine chubby guys who live in their grandparents basement sorting comic books. I know thats not the case. I have friends who have tried it, some with success. One who even married a girl he met online. Of course, I should mention the entire relationship, dating and marriage didn't last a year. But hey, at least it went somewhere.

I still feel too embarassed to tell people I am doing it. I don't actually have a paid account, but my aforementioned partner-in-crime, has one, and if I see someone interesting, or if someone interesting sees me, I can have her email them and give them an email address. (No, mom, I don't use my real one that has my real name on it.) Of course it wouldn't matter if I did because the majority of the responses I have gotten were from people I actually know. Ah, the problems with living in a small city.

If I do meet someone, and do go on a date with him, and like him. What will I tell my friends? One friend tried online dating in the past and met a nice guy. They began dating and he didn't want to tell his friends they met online. They decided on saying they had met in the mall after literally bumping into one another. So that means I can't use that one.

In the next fifty years, do I want to have to tell my grandchildren that I met their granddad while online man-shopping? Not really. But what if there is a perfectly nice guy who just thought it could be funny and worth a shot to try? And he is about to stumble onto my all too uncomplicated profile with delight. Well, I guess I might have to chage the way I talk to my imaginary grandchildren in the distant future.

The Boys Say HI!

Why would a guy who broke up with someone as soon as he found out they were pregnant, start demanding to spend time with his pregnant ex-girlfriend? That's happening to my friend. Now he is saying that she owes it to him and her baby to allow him to see her. She is six months pregnant with his child. He says he wants to see his baby now, the baby that is in her. Now, let me get this straight, he didn't want to see "his baby" when she was 3 months pregnant with it. He wanted to quit school, move in with a bunch of dirty hippies, and be free. He only wants to see her now that its cute to be seen with her, before she just looked like a regular girl. No one could be impressed with his noble behavior. Now, it is her fault she is excluding him from this pregnancy. Where was he when she needed a friend to walk her home at night? She waited for him to show, like he said he would. I can just imagine her thinking, "He should be here any second". Was he excluded then? Nope, he was across the street, spending time with his friends. And he never showed. Her body is changing daily, and she is becoming more beautiful daily, but he continues to grow more and more unattractive as the pregnancy develops. He expects her to allow him to sleep in her house on the weekends, after the baby is born. He thinks they should be able to go on vacations together. This is the guy that broke her heart. This is the guy that abandoned her in her most vulnerable state. This is not a man. This is a silly little boy that will live to regret his lack of spine and selfish nature. I just pray the baby takes after her dad. And you know what, he will. *Photo credit Michael Samstag

Day two.

I was awakened by a crazy New Yorker. Why I don't know. I have known her my entire life. Literally, my ENTIRE life. Our mothers were college roommates and we grew up as best friends. She went on vacation to New York about 10 years ago and never came home. She loved it there. Now she's ready to be a little southbound, but work commitments keep her there. She is my Match.com partner in crime. We laugh about hairy backed men and guys who wear their shirts unbuttoned to their navel. And guys that say "Yummy!"after seeing a girl's picture. Eww, gross. There have got to be better guys out there.

Sean Connery is quitting the business. HE is "fed up with the Hollywood idiots". I'm pretty sure this will disappoint my Mom, and it really does me too, although starring in the snoozefest with Catherine Zeta-Jones didn't really do him justice. This might just make people love him more, if that's possible.

Now that I have this blog, it just makes me wish interesting things happened to me. They don't. They especially don't on Mondays. The highlight of my day was bickering with my friend in NYC about whether or not having a blog was dorky. The low-light of my day was bickering with an ex-boyfriend on whether or not he is an asshole. Oh the excitement.

Here is my best buddy!

This is Cash. He proudly guards his backyard from pests like neighboring kitties and vicious squirrels.

Well, this is it!

This is my little place on the Inter-web. I've been thinking about doing this for a while now. Honestly, I didn't know how easy it would be. I don't know how often I will post yet, but I guess I will just play it as it lies and see what happens.