It's raining for the third day. Life is imitating my inner reality. Except that everyone is going about their business like nothing's happened. Don't they realize that my life has profoundly changed? It seems only right that they should step lightly when they pass and be gentle and concerned for the plight of one who has lost.
But I must admit, the view from my window is so beautiful. I keep saying, 'thank you thank you' in my head. And the rain smells so good and there's a balmy breeze that slips into my room. So does this represent Hope? And what would this hope be for?
Monday, April 24, 2006
Sunday, April 23, 2006
I wish it were possible to be mature about this
I was convinced my ex was out seeing someone yesterday. I kept texting her with no reply. So I sat there and my mind started to weave elaborate tales about Kate and her new lover and how much fun they were having while I was at Kate's apartment taking care of our animals. I didn't leave well enough alone, I kept texting, demanding replies then almost begging a reply. I must know, get this over with, come clean, etc. Nothing. I finally came to the conclusion her phone was dead, but she had her charger with her. A lot of brooding, she's with someone, she's not.
At 10PM she calls and asks if I would kindly leave the apartment so she can come home.
"Have you gotten my texts?" , me.
"Yes", she.
"You got my 20 texts and you didn't respond to any?", me.
"No I'm trying to take time for myself and you texting me isn't helping" she.
"You couldn't just text me and say it's not true and leave me alone?!", me.
"No.", she.
This conversation goes on for twenty minutes or more, as do these types of conversations. I felt like a desperate freak that's been made more a fool by her sitting there letting me text her countless paranoid questions with no reply. There's a cruelty about it.
This is all a rotten situation and I struggle in it, trying to make it fit what I want it to be.
Don't betray your mate, don't hurt them too deeply. You may have to "temporarily separate" which may mean permanently. But you won't know right off, you'll sit in his/her I Don't Know What I Want limbo. You may act like a fool or you may just give up. You may feel sorry for yourself but you'll always know you brought it on yourself.
Just try not to be a shit.
At 10PM she calls and asks if I would kindly leave the apartment so she can come home.
"Have you gotten my texts?" , me.
"Yes", she.
"You got my 20 texts and you didn't respond to any?", me.
"No I'm trying to take time for myself and you texting me isn't helping" she.
"You couldn't just text me and say it's not true and leave me alone?!", me.
"No.", she.
This conversation goes on for twenty minutes or more, as do these types of conversations. I felt like a desperate freak that's been made more a fool by her sitting there letting me text her countless paranoid questions with no reply. There's a cruelty about it.
This is all a rotten situation and I struggle in it, trying to make it fit what I want it to be.
Don't betray your mate, don't hurt them too deeply. You may have to "temporarily separate" which may mean permanently. But you won't know right off, you'll sit in his/her I Don't Know What I Want limbo. You may act like a fool or you may just give up. You may feel sorry for yourself but you'll always know you brought it on yourself.
Just try not to be a shit.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Found and Lost
I found an apartment! With an English woman with a great sense of humor and her husband from Paraguay. My window looks out on trees and a beautiful historical house. They have a white cat who rubbed my face with hers the first time we met. This is a good thing and I'm very happy about this. It's one of those 'meant to be' moments. Thank you universe.
The new place is great but the uprooting from the old is painful and I'm deeply regretful for my actions that led to this decision. My ex makes no bones about her need for my quick disappearance, her resentment of my existence. I know she can't help it but it bruises me deeply. I am a dog looking for a new home.
There will be no trips to Michigan or swimming in the lake together anymore. She does not want to make me laugh anymore. She doesn't need me or want me. And hope wells up inside, keeping me from believing this is permanent and I can't decided if I should smash this hope or embrace it.
I regret. I regret. I miss her so much. She is more than I gave her credit for. She is more than she gives herself credit for. This all has been such a hideous waste by a selfish, childish, stupid person. Me.
The new place is great but the uprooting from the old is painful and I'm deeply regretful for my actions that led to this decision. My ex makes no bones about her need for my quick disappearance, her resentment of my existence. I know she can't help it but it bruises me deeply. I am a dog looking for a new home.
There will be no trips to Michigan or swimming in the lake together anymore. She does not want to make me laugh anymore. She doesn't need me or want me. And hope wells up inside, keeping me from believing this is permanent and I can't decided if I should smash this hope or embrace it.
I regret. I regret. I miss her so much. She is more than I gave her credit for. She is more than she gives herself credit for. This all has been such a hideous waste by a selfish, childish, stupid person. Me.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Go Speed Racer
I'm so restless. I have to find a room to rent but, alas I can't seem to charm anyone enough in my emails to respond to my response to their 'room to let' ads. What the F? It's the weekend and I ought to be out there looking at apartments, instead I'm in here writing on my blog about how I'm not out......you get the idea. But hey, I'm in shitsville and if I go out there trying to meet new roomies with this vibe it'll do more harm than good.
I went out and got groceries. I usually drive out of the city to do this so I can have a break and wash the car.
Up 87 I go and I have to go around a sloth driver in the middle lane, she's going maybe 45. So now I'm in the fast land and here she comes. whizzing up next to me in an attempt to get in front of me. This is usually the moment where I fail to make the choice to be non-competitive. And as usual I failed, embarking on a very blurred, heart pumping race to win. Win what? Good question.
Road Rager Robin--------------->
I raced her for about three miles. Shortly in the beginning of the road rage fest she had indeed overtaken me and I immediately flipped her off and called her a C word. And after it ended with me never catching her and getting in front of her (am I an adult?), the thing I was most upset about was my f-ing Jeep wasn't fast enough to shut her down. She was driving a four door, Mitsubishi, sedan maybe 90s. My Jeep is a 2006 straight 6 that should be able to out perform a car like that. Don't buy a Jeep if you need to win in road rage races.
I was pissed for a while about losing. I thought horrible thoughts of her demise on the freeway. She won, I lost, she should have a fiery car wreck. I know it's horrible and of course, after an hour or two I rethought this meanness and just hoped she got a ticket and triggered a chain of events that led to her having a very Losing day.
These are my size 11 feet, they're heavy on the gas peddle
I went out and got groceries. I usually drive out of the city to do this so I can have a break and wash the car.
Up 87 I go and I have to go around a sloth driver in the middle lane, she's going maybe 45. So now I'm in the fast land and here she comes. whizzing up next to me in an attempt to get in front of me. This is usually the moment where I fail to make the choice to be non-competitive. And as usual I failed, embarking on a very blurred, heart pumping race to win. Win what? Good question.
Road Rager Robin--------------->
I raced her for about three miles. Shortly in the beginning of the road rage fest she had indeed overtaken me and I immediately flipped her off and called her a C word. And after it ended with me never catching her and getting in front of her (am I an adult?), the thing I was most upset about was my f-ing Jeep wasn't fast enough to shut her down. She was driving a four door, Mitsubishi, sedan maybe 90s. My Jeep is a 2006 straight 6 that should be able to out perform a car like that. Don't buy a Jeep if you need to win in road rage races.
I was pissed for a while about losing. I thought horrible thoughts of her demise on the freeway. She won, I lost, she should have a fiery car wreck. I know it's horrible and of course, after an hour or two I rethought this meanness and just hoped she got a ticket and triggered a chain of events that led to her having a very Losing day.
These are my size 11 feet, they're heavy on the gas peddle
Friday, April 14, 2006
Six Oddities
I was tagged to tell six facts about myself that are just-off-center.
Six Things About Me That Will Make You Think Twice About Being My Friend
1. When I'm out running errands or walking around, If I'm edgy or nervous, I find myself constantly looking in my bag. Unzip, zip, unzip, zip. I think I think something has fallen out.
2. I hate the smell of poop. I know this is normal, everyone does but, I fear it. If I have to go to the bathroom after someone just pooped, I have to be sure they sprayed before I can enter. If not, I will hold my breath, go in, spray, stand outside of the bathroom and fan the door frantically for a minute or two before doing my business. If someone pooped in a public bathroom I will hold until I find another.
This also poses a problem as I'm a dog walker and here in the great city of NY we pick up our dog's shit in plastic bags and carry it to trash cans which are, thank god, conveniently located on every corner. I am a pro at Up Wind/Down Wind. I know where I'm at at all times in position of the bag of poop and it's stink. I also have an amazing ability to hold my breath. Sometimes I've been holding my breath and not known until I became aware of the sound of blood pulsing through my head.
3. I covet socks. I love collecting them out of the dryer and finding their matches. I love folding them (I never pull one over the other as it stretches the elastic and this can not be tolerated). I love putting them away and arranging them. I don't share and I am very sad when they get holes.
4. Same with jeans. When they get holes in spots that are too revealing I try to repair. Usually this doesn't work so I wear boxers under them. When the rip travels around the leg and the boxers hang out of said hole I set them aside and contemplate the possibility that they might have to be given up. This process usually lasts about 2 weeks. I look at them everyday. Then the next stage is 'put them up in the closet', this lasts a month maybe more. Then one day I open the door, see them and realize I've forgotten about them and throw them in the trash.
5. I must be on time if not earlier. And I extend this expectation to people I know and resent them when they fail but don't tell them. Just take it out on them by being sullen for 5 or 10 minutes. Unless it's my mate then I'll rant and lecture.
6. I can't stand when strangers get closer than foot away from me. Again in NYC, this is a real challenge to overcome. Usually I am realistic enough to accept close walkers. Most people have lived here all their lives and have less need for personal space. But there are those days when I take it as a personal affront and resent the whole damn lot of them.
As I'm new to blogging I don't know six people to tag and half the people I do know have already been tagged so I will tag two people, one of which doesn't even read my blog, I don't think.
Mrs.Fortune (if you've already been tagged, sorry) and Spotted Elephant.
Here are the rules:
1. Reveal six weird facts/things/habits about yourself and then tag six people.
2. Leave a "You’re Tagged!" comment to let the people you have tagged know they have to reveal six things (or the entire blogosphere will explode and it will be their fault).
3. Leave me a comment letting me know that you have completed your mission (if you have chosen to accept it!?.
Six Things About Me That Will Make You Think Twice About Being My Friend
1. When I'm out running errands or walking around, If I'm edgy or nervous, I find myself constantly looking in my bag. Unzip, zip, unzip, zip. I think I think something has fallen out.
2. I hate the smell of poop. I know this is normal, everyone does but, I fear it. If I have to go to the bathroom after someone just pooped, I have to be sure they sprayed before I can enter. If not, I will hold my breath, go in, spray, stand outside of the bathroom and fan the door frantically for a minute or two before doing my business. If someone pooped in a public bathroom I will hold until I find another.
This also poses a problem as I'm a dog walker and here in the great city of NY we pick up our dog's shit in plastic bags and carry it to trash cans which are, thank god, conveniently located on every corner. I am a pro at Up Wind/Down Wind. I know where I'm at at all times in position of the bag of poop and it's stink. I also have an amazing ability to hold my breath. Sometimes I've been holding my breath and not known until I became aware of the sound of blood pulsing through my head.
3. I covet socks. I love collecting them out of the dryer and finding their matches. I love folding them (I never pull one over the other as it stretches the elastic and this can not be tolerated). I love putting them away and arranging them. I don't share and I am very sad when they get holes.
4. Same with jeans. When they get holes in spots that are too revealing I try to repair. Usually this doesn't work so I wear boxers under them. When the rip travels around the leg and the boxers hang out of said hole I set them aside and contemplate the possibility that they might have to be given up. This process usually lasts about 2 weeks. I look at them everyday. Then the next stage is 'put them up in the closet', this lasts a month maybe more. Then one day I open the door, see them and realize I've forgotten about them and throw them in the trash.
5. I must be on time if not earlier. And I extend this expectation to people I know and resent them when they fail but don't tell them. Just take it out on them by being sullen for 5 or 10 minutes. Unless it's my mate then I'll rant and lecture.
6. I can't stand when strangers get closer than foot away from me. Again in NYC, this is a real challenge to overcome. Usually I am realistic enough to accept close walkers. Most people have lived here all their lives and have less need for personal space. But there are those days when I take it as a personal affront and resent the whole damn lot of them.
As I'm new to blogging I don't know six people to tag and half the people I do know have already been tagged so I will tag two people, one of which doesn't even read my blog, I don't think.
Mrs.Fortune (if you've already been tagged, sorry) and Spotted Elephant.
Here are the rules:
1. Reveal six weird facts/things/habits about yourself and then tag six people.
2. Leave a "You’re Tagged!" comment to let the people you have tagged know they have to reveal six things (or the entire blogosphere will explode and it will be their fault).
3. Leave me a comment letting me know that you have completed your mission (if you have chosen to accept it!?.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
hmmm what? did you say something?
To all animal lovers, you must go over to http://thebipolarview.blogspot.com/ and read all the Monday Bunny Blogging posts.
Still looking for a place. My friend knows a couple who have a big apartment who might offer me space. But, she has to wait to ask till after Passover, they're having 30-40 people over. I don't even know 30-40 people. This couple, they go to Burning Man every year and keep a Kosher kitchen. Pagan Jews. Right up my alley.
Humm, what else? I have five cats and one dog. They're staying with Kate, for now.
Cliff, Iris, Crush, Jane, Hugo and Murdoch the dog. No our apartment doesn't smell like cat pee.
My one cat, Cliff is laying in my lap. Crush is sitting on the file cabinet next to me waiting for Cliff to move so he can take his place. Crush is staring at Cliff with a slightly menacing look. Crush's mental wheels are turning, he's trying to determine if he can climb on top of Cliff without having Cliff kick his ass. I'm gonna guess, no.
Just now Crush tried to make his move, he was immediately rebuffed by monster cat Cliff. A fast, hard smack with the right paw.
Crush is now trying to convince me to get rid of Cliff with his 'I'm so incredibly cute and wonderful to hold' look. Cats are shameless.
Still looking for a place. My friend knows a couple who have a big apartment who might offer me space. But, she has to wait to ask till after Passover, they're having 30-40 people over. I don't even know 30-40 people. This couple, they go to Burning Man every year and keep a Kosher kitchen. Pagan Jews. Right up my alley.
Humm, what else? I have five cats and one dog. They're staying with Kate, for now.
Cliff, Iris, Crush, Jane, Hugo and Murdoch the dog. No our apartment doesn't smell like cat pee.
My one cat, Cliff is laying in my lap. Crush is sitting on the file cabinet next to me waiting for Cliff to move so he can take his place. Crush is staring at Cliff with a slightly menacing look. Crush's mental wheels are turning, he's trying to determine if he can climb on top of Cliff without having Cliff kick his ass. I'm gonna guess, no.
Just now Crush tried to make his move, he was immediately rebuffed by monster cat Cliff. A fast, hard smack with the right paw.
Crush is now trying to convince me to get rid of Cliff with his 'I'm so incredibly cute and wonderful to hold' look. Cats are shameless.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
need a little entertainment?
This is a must see ad on Craig's List: http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/roo/150153442.html
Love it.
Love it.
Do you have a room for rent?
I must say, this blogging business is a godsend. Between reading your blogs and writing in mine, it's prevented many personal pity parties. And for that, I say Thank You.
So far the only person to respond to my emails about rooms they're renting was a very 'to the point, no details' guy who lives in a scary part of town. After some thought I decided against pursuing it.
I just emailed a couple who in their ad said there was a catch to the room they had for rent: "The catch? We have a newborn baby, so you have to be willing to live in a house where midnight cries might occur. The baby sleeps in our room, and the walls are pretty thick, but a newborn is a newborn . . . " I wrote I would bring extra pillows to cover my head. We'll see if they respond.
This morning, 4:30am I awoke as usual to all the scary little worries that peek their creepy little heads up out of slumber. Since I was relatively relaxed I decided I would try to meditate instead of laying wide awake in a slight sweat, creating bad endings to all the situations I'm currently dealing with.
I did ok considering I'm an amateur and lazy about such endeavors. I WANT so much to WANT to meditate. I rarely am able to corner myself, sit me down and not think of a thousand other things I should be doing. Especially now.
It's spring in NYC and I live right across from a park filled with flowers, winding steps and old stone walls. I'm so pleased I get to walk dogs in such a beautiful place.
So far the only person to respond to my emails about rooms they're renting was a very 'to the point, no details' guy who lives in a scary part of town. After some thought I decided against pursuing it.
I just emailed a couple who in their ad said there was a catch to the room they had for rent: "The catch? We have a newborn baby, so you have to be willing to live in a house where midnight cries might occur. The baby sleeps in our room, and the walls are pretty thick, but a newborn is a newborn . . . " I wrote I would bring extra pillows to cover my head. We'll see if they respond.
This morning, 4:30am I awoke as usual to all the scary little worries that peek their creepy little heads up out of slumber. Since I was relatively relaxed I decided I would try to meditate instead of laying wide awake in a slight sweat, creating bad endings to all the situations I'm currently dealing with.
I did ok considering I'm an amateur and lazy about such endeavors. I WANT so much to WANT to meditate. I rarely am able to corner myself, sit me down and not think of a thousand other things I should be doing. Especially now.
It's spring in NYC and I live right across from a park filled with flowers, winding steps and old stone walls. I'm so pleased I get to walk dogs in such a beautiful place.
Monday, April 10, 2006
What a friggin day
Oh god, I'm so freaking exhausted from telling everyone 'Kate' and I are temporarily separating and I'm trying to find a room for a couple of months. Christ, it's as if I'm admitting a failure.
Everyone has been so wonderful and kind. My friends are trying to find me places. But I am admitting a failure, I have failed to be what I would like to be to someone I love. And she too has failed me.
Oh please, oh please let me find a space I could feel at home enough in to fall asleep and stay asleep. Artists, gay guys, animal lovers, it's all good. Can I have a room in your loving space? I will send you beautiful flowers of energy that I will endow with healing, empowering light.
I'm closed in the bedroom away from Kate. She wants to be separate and after the little argument we had on the phone a little while ago, so do I. I've been written off and she says she's been lectured. Fuck both of us.
Everyone has been so wonderful and kind. My friends are trying to find me places. But I am admitting a failure, I have failed to be what I would like to be to someone I love. And she too has failed me.
Oh please, oh please let me find a space I could feel at home enough in to fall asleep and stay asleep. Artists, gay guys, animal lovers, it's all good. Can I have a room in your loving space? I will send you beautiful flowers of energy that I will endow with healing, empowering light.
I'm closed in the bedroom away from Kate. She wants to be separate and after the little argument we had on the phone a little while ago, so do I. I've been written off and she says she's been lectured. Fuck both of us.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
I'm anxious about going out and meeting strangers with rooms to rent. I've not had to do this in NYC, it's intimidating.
Meeting the people, seeing the room. Wonder if I hate it or I don't like the people living there and they like me and ask if I want the room?
Oh please, I need to get over it.
So it will be awkward and besides, who's to say they'll like me enough to ask? That's awkward too.
I guess it's the fact that I have to tear myself away from my little home and find another that scares me. I feel lonely in this process.
Meeting the people, seeing the room. Wonder if I hate it or I don't like the people living there and they like me and ask if I want the room?
Oh please, I need to get over it.
So it will be awkward and besides, who's to say they'll like me enough to ask? That's awkward too.
I guess it's the fact that I have to tear myself away from my little home and find another that scares me. I feel lonely in this process.
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Bad Primate
Do you know why I say Bamboo Lemur boys are mean to their girls?
This type of Lemur (a primate) eats the young shoots of bamboo which contain cyanide. The females go out and find these shoots and rip them open which is no small feat. In fact it's such a loud process the males stand guard because the females can't hear over their own chewing din. After all the work getting to the prize, the males run over, jump on the female and take it away. Bastards.
This type of Lemur (a primate) eats the young shoots of bamboo which contain cyanide. The females go out and find these shoots and rip them open which is no small feat. In fact it's such a loud process the males stand guard because the females can't hear over their own chewing din. After all the work getting to the prize, the males run over, jump on the female and take it away. Bastards.
Why don't they call?
So there's this woman in my building who's dog I walk. (I'm a NYC dog walker extraordinare) She has this extra room she rents out. It's lovely really. Large, clean with a huge wall to wall window overlooking the Hudson River. I covet this room for my own as my maybe-maybe not-ex-girlfriend and I try a temporary separation. I've already told myself how incredibly convenient this room is. When (we'll call my maybe-maybe not-ex, Kate) Kate isn't home I can walk, in my socks even, over to our apartment and hang out with our children, (5 cats, 1 dog).
See, this is where I've head-fucked myself.. I've already made plans and moved in before I've even asked the lady if she's looking for another roommate. Now my heart is so set on it, every time I call her number my blood pulses so hard I fear a stroke will occur before she answers.
She's never home or she's screening my calls and not calling back for some reason. I've concluded it's because she hates me and refuses to acknowledge my suffering.
Last night Kate didn't come home or call until 6:30am this morning. The experience wrecked me. I went from believing she got a hotel room, left her phone in the Jeep, fell asleep and forgot to call to seeing her crying and fighting off a rapist, murderer. She called from a hotel in Jersey, she had left her phone in her bag and fell asleep. It was one of the worst nights of my life.
She has told me she doesn't have enough of herself for herself, much less to be giving any to me. I believe her now. There is an ominous feeling of urgency for my departure, yet I can't get anyone to answer a phone.
See, this is where I've head-fucked myself.. I've already made plans and moved in before I've even asked the lady if she's looking for another roommate. Now my heart is so set on it, every time I call her number my blood pulses so hard I fear a stroke will occur before she answers.
She's never home or she's screening my calls and not calling back for some reason. I've concluded it's because she hates me and refuses to acknowledge my suffering.
Last night Kate didn't come home or call until 6:30am this morning. The experience wrecked me. I went from believing she got a hotel room, left her phone in the Jeep, fell asleep and forgot to call to seeing her crying and fighting off a rapist, murderer. She called from a hotel in Jersey, she had left her phone in her bag and fell asleep. It was one of the worst nights of my life.
She has told me she doesn't have enough of herself for herself, much less to be giving any to me. I believe her now. There is an ominous feeling of urgency for my departure, yet I can't get anyone to answer a phone.
Friday, April 07, 2006
It feels like death
My girlfriend has decided to leave me. It's temporary, a separation and I'm the one to leave. She doesn't know who she is and can't find out with me in her space. Our space, six years of space.
8 months ago I hurt her deeply and my actions are irretrievable, non refundable and karmically, it's pay back. She's damaged goods and I am the cause.
Last night I yelled at her about being the one who is destroying our relationship. She said yes, and you were the one destroying it 8 months ago. Everything she says is true but I want it to be her fault, it's easier.
I want to say something that will stop her in her tracks and make her wonder what she was thinking, snap out of it, continue to go to therapy with me and love me again. But she doesn't snap out of it and the moment of realization that what I say no longer influences the one I love is like someone cutting my oxygen.
I can't help but think temporary is going to be permanent. I don't want to ride roller-coasters with anyone but her. I don't want to argue about money or go to Michigan in the summer with anyone but her.
I want to crawl into a hole and quietly die. But instead I have to find a place to live.
8 months ago I hurt her deeply and my actions are irretrievable, non refundable and karmically, it's pay back. She's damaged goods and I am the cause.
Last night I yelled at her about being the one who is destroying our relationship. She said yes, and you were the one destroying it 8 months ago. Everything she says is true but I want it to be her fault, it's easier.
I want to say something that will stop her in her tracks and make her wonder what she was thinking, snap out of it, continue to go to therapy with me and love me again. But she doesn't snap out of it and the moment of realization that what I say no longer influences the one I love is like someone cutting my oxygen.
I can't help but think temporary is going to be permanent. I don't want to ride roller-coasters with anyone but her. I don't want to argue about money or go to Michigan in the summer with anyone but her.
I want to crawl into a hole and quietly die. But instead I have to find a place to live.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Who me?
I burp a lot. I'm an airy kinda gal. Probably because I eat a well rounded diet of health food and junk food. I burp so much I don't realize I've burped until I look around and see the appalled and disgusted faces of my fellow New Yorkers. They're appalled because it's rude in our society to release any kind of personal air in public. And on top of it, I'm a woman releasing personal air publicly.
I can't blame people for their mind set, not about the woman part just the burping part. I'm appalled when I hear a burping stranger too and I feel justified in my reaction even though I may do it myself at any moment. Double standard. How will I ever reach Nirvana with this attitude?
As I get older I do things in public I would never have imagined doing when I was younger.
I use a hanky to blow my nose. I'm a moisture producing gal too. This hanky business disgusts my girlfriend and when I use it in public with her near, her lip curls and she abandons me to cruel public scrutiny. I admit, I do care what people think but I've adopted an 'old men use these things, why can't I?' expression on my face as I'm folding hank and putting it back in my pocket.
I've stepped out of the fantasy that teenagers could still think I'm cool. I'm looking more like their mothers and aunts.
Even though I will fight for my right to be less 'lady like' and more 'human', today in the park I burped and a small flock of pigeons flew away. I'm thinking maybe I should at least lower the volume.
I can't blame people for their mind set, not about the woman part just the burping part. I'm appalled when I hear a burping stranger too and I feel justified in my reaction even though I may do it myself at any moment. Double standard. How will I ever reach Nirvana with this attitude?
As I get older I do things in public I would never have imagined doing when I was younger.
I use a hanky to blow my nose. I'm a moisture producing gal too. This hanky business disgusts my girlfriend and when I use it in public with her near, her lip curls and she abandons me to cruel public scrutiny. I admit, I do care what people think but I've adopted an 'old men use these things, why can't I?' expression on my face as I'm folding hank and putting it back in my pocket.
I've stepped out of the fantasy that teenagers could still think I'm cool. I'm looking more like their mothers and aunts.
Even though I will fight for my right to be less 'lady like' and more 'human', today in the park I burped and a small flock of pigeons flew away. I'm thinking maybe I should at least lower the volume.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Rain and wire hangers
I went shopping with Kayla. Up to a mall in Westchester we went.
Jeans, socks, Q tips and those new Hershey Kisses with peanutbutter inside. We found everything and had enough time to get home to watch The Apprentice. As we were walking out to the car we were trying to determine where the keys were. Murdoch had them.
Murdoch was in the Jeep because he's a great car dog who would rather wait in the car for us than at home with the cats. We put him to the task of hitting the unlock button. "Shake Mur shake!" He would bring his paw up to shake our hands through the glass with a look that said we must be mad if we thought he would be able to shake through the window. Instead of saying as much, he just stopped trying. Meanwhile the chilly drizzle became a downpour with us in light jackets.
Back to the mall (an open, outside mall with rain), hands red, water streaming off me onto the floors of The Gap, Lane Bryant and Wet Seal asking for a wire hanger. "No wire hangers!" Joan Crawford screamed, whipping my backside from one store to the next.
Kayla was at another store asking for a plastic bag as her paper Gap bag's blue coloring was rubbing off on her cream colored pants and turning to mush at the same time.
It was about this point both of us started to feel like homeless folks relying on the kindness of strangers.
A call to a towing company. "$60 bucks plus tax in cash. He'll be there in 10." Said the tough lady on the phone. Out to the Jeep and the torrents of rain we went.
Pitiful and sad, we looked smaller than our normal sizes, younger and smaller. I watched us like two strangers I truly felt sorry for. I would have offered help if I wasn't one of us.
Our hero arrived in a very manly tow truck with big exciting lights and a macho sounding engine. He took his time making sure his hood was on before he got out. Tools in hand he walks around to me and says, "$60 bucks plus tax in cash and we're not responsible for damage." I said, "What kind of damage? And just so you know our dog will probably try to kill you through the window, sorry." Murdoch lunges and snarls. But who cares? We've got our hero and in two minutes he had our $60 bucks plus tax in cash."
Jeans, socks, Q tips and those new Hershey Kisses with peanutbutter inside. We found everything and had enough time to get home to watch The Apprentice. As we were walking out to the car we were trying to determine where the keys were. Murdoch had them.
Murdoch was in the Jeep because he's a great car dog who would rather wait in the car for us than at home with the cats. We put him to the task of hitting the unlock button. "Shake Mur shake!" He would bring his paw up to shake our hands through the glass with a look that said we must be mad if we thought he would be able to shake through the window. Instead of saying as much, he just stopped trying. Meanwhile the chilly drizzle became a downpour with us in light jackets.
Back to the mall (an open, outside mall with rain), hands red, water streaming off me onto the floors of The Gap, Lane Bryant and Wet Seal asking for a wire hanger. "No wire hangers!" Joan Crawford screamed, whipping my backside from one store to the next.
Kayla was at another store asking for a plastic bag as her paper Gap bag's blue coloring was rubbing off on her cream colored pants and turning to mush at the same time.
It was about this point both of us started to feel like homeless folks relying on the kindness of strangers.
A call to a towing company. "$60 bucks plus tax in cash. He'll be there in 10." Said the tough lady on the phone. Out to the Jeep and the torrents of rain we went.
Pitiful and sad, we looked smaller than our normal sizes, younger and smaller. I watched us like two strangers I truly felt sorry for. I would have offered help if I wasn't one of us.
Our hero arrived in a very manly tow truck with big exciting lights and a macho sounding engine. He took his time making sure his hood was on before he got out. Tools in hand he walks around to me and says, "$60 bucks plus tax in cash and we're not responsible for damage." I said, "What kind of damage? And just so you know our dog will probably try to kill you through the window, sorry." Murdoch lunges and snarls. But who cares? We've got our hero and in two minutes he had our $60 bucks plus tax in cash."
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