09.30.08
How Do You Say to Someone…
I really like you. As simple as that.
I like the way you think about things, the way you laugh, the way you write with your left hand. I like that you read the paper and take your coffee black. I like the way your face lights up with surprise when I say something that makes you laugh, the way you shake your head when I pretend to spar with you over politics, the way you inspect my apartment to make sure I’m safe.
I like that you know where I come from, know instantly what parts of me still harbor a small town sensibility. I like that you recognize I can handle things myself but sometimes appreciate your input. I like that you said you wanted more than to kiss me, that you called, that you took me on a bona-fide date, that you wanted to see me again and again and again.
I really like you. And I know, just know, call it what you will; that you like me too. But you’re already pulling away from me, pushing me away from you. So soon.
Don’t ask me how, but I also know, just know, that if you wouldn’t, we might have something here, might actually be something to one another.
Or maybe you already know that too.
09.29.08
You Like Me, You Really, Really Like Me
So get this; my little blog that could has won an award!! A shiny, real, honest-to-goodness award:
I’ve never gotten one before, and in honor of the giver (Long Red Cape, who knew?), I promise to write a Toolbag post forthwith. Well, in the next couple of days anyway because there certainly has been some toolbaggery of late. Of the teeth-grinding variety. Stay tuned.
For now though, the business at hand. I am to recognize (only?!) seven of my favorite blogs in turn. My short blogroll would normally make the selection easy (I seem dead set on flouting blogroll etiquette by linking only to those I read daily-yes, I know how Google Reader works- so if you’re to the left, you’re already a favorite).
That said, I’m picking an eclectic few that (mostly) aren’t already listed but on which I tend to lurk (okay, so I just heard myself and realize that makes it sound like I’m trolling the Internet for 13 year olds. Chris Hanson, please do not invite me to your skeevy-looking rec room).
1) Things My Boyfriend Says- she hasn’t posted in a long-ass time, but still offers a smattering of hilarity. I wonder if they broke up…..
2) Joy- because she’s a fellow townie and she is fancy. Also, her sex life has me in awe. Seriously girl, how do you manage?
3) Anonymous Coworker- this is a post-mortem award for the blog that made me laugh the loudest while pretending to work. Go ahead and read the archives. But first know that the humor is not for the faint of heart. Or stomach.
4) Stuff Nobody Likes- of course. I love Stuff White People Like, so this works for me too.
5) Copyranter- I do shitloads of lame ass writing for my job and catch myself regularly criticizing other people’s professional work (see: Aussie hair care commercial). This blog feeds my inner critic.
6) Surviving Myself- this is a new one for me, but thus far, I have to say, I really look forward to reading about his New York snarkiness and citified random observations.
7) Chica- last, but nearly least, to my earliest reader and the one who first linked to me. She has one of the sweetest, most-down-to-earth perspectives and is always a delight to read. Shout out to the UK!
Okay, now that I’m done being all Linky McLinkerstein, get to reading!
09.27.08
Co-Payless Epiphany
I’ve seen a therapist for two years, but sometimes it’s a complete stranger who can help me see things more clearly when I least expect it. In the cleaning supplies aisle at Jewel the other day, I had just such an encounter.
“Dave”: “Oh, hey! Mary, right?”
Me, thinking: Mary? Really? Do I honestly look like a ‘Mary’? Natalie maybe, or Sarah. But Mary?
“No? You look so familiar. Are you new to the neighborhood?”
Me, thinking: How does that even make sense?
“I’m new to the neighborhood and was just thinking of where to go to see a movie around here. Maybe you and I could check one out sometime,” he says.
Me, thinking: Liar. You asked me out two years ago on a neighborhood sidewalk.
With that, I shoved the Magic Erasers I’d been comparison shopping back on the shelf, choosing to end the conversation in lieu of cleaner walls.
“I don’t think that would be such a good idea,” I began.
“No? You’re not married…at least, there’s no ring on your finger.”
Me, thinking: Well look at you Super Sleuth.
“I just started seeing someone,” I offered instead, not that that’s the only reason I’d rule this one out.
“So how long have you been cheating on me?” he says with a skeevy ass smirk.
Me, thinking: Dude must get that A LOT to have such a retarded rejoinder.
“It’s…um, still new, I guess….”
“Then, not a boyfriend. So?”
“No. Not a boyfriend. But I think I might want him to be.”
09.25.08
Christmas in September
Oh, Pam. Poor, sad face Pam. Why did Andy have to steal Jim’s thunder? Jerkstore.
And Michael. Poor, ridiculous Michael. Why can’t you see that as much as you want kids, Jan is totally effed up?
I can’t wait, am perched on the edge of my chair, to find out what’s going to happen on The Office season premiere tonight. When I woke up this morning, it was the first thing I thought of just like I was five years old on Christmas morning or something.
Because Emo is on top of all the latest news and plot leaks, he has informed me (which is as much as I’ll let him) that it is going to be freaking awesome (even though we know Jam will be in a state of……transition? Guessing! I have no idea what will happen- I promise!).
Merry Office Season Premiere!
09.24.08
Better Than Morning Coffee?
Sometimes in the morning, after my train has dropped me off in the burbs, when I walk the 10 minutes or so to my office, an oncoming freight train approaches from the north.
Walking toward it, I wait as it meets me on the bridge where the sidewalk narrows over the road full of haplessly racing commuters below.
I wonder what it must be like for the engineer to see someone walking so close by. I wonder if he worries more, as I do, in wintertime about someone slipping on the icy sidewalks. How easily someone might fall.
And then I close my eyes and feel the whoosh of the wind it creates as it passes within a few feet of me. My hair is tossed behind me, my eyelashes flutter, and something about it makes me feel….alive.
09.23.08
It’s Baaaaaaack
I think my ghost may be back. It’s 1:33 am and I just bequeathed it the bedroom for the rest of the night.
It woke me up. It….touched me. I swear. I felt the bed shake lightly, like a cat had jumped onto the foot of the bed, tip-toeing toward me as I lay with my back to it. And then ever so slowly I felt this odd but constant pressure all over my back at once, pushing down on my spine. I couldn’t take it anymore and I turned over. Bravely, I thought. But then it poked me on my right side, making me flinch. And when I did, it felt like there was something heavy laying beside my leg. After that, I decamped to the living room, where it as yet has never ventured.
What the eff is going on in here? I mean really, I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I got rid of the TV that it so liked to turn on and play movies with. Which is when it started to up the ante and begin touching me- slapping me awake on my head, running a finger down the bottom of my foot. Seriously. How’d you like to wake up to that?
I’m so freaked out right now I had to call someone- anyone who might be awake. And lucky for me (and my poor mother who was this close to getting the call), my friend Mara is working crazy ass retail hours and I could call her, knowing she just got home from work. But now it’s quiet in here again and I’m seriously waiting for my freaking bedroom door to slam or some messed up junk like that.
09.22.08
It’s Like This
Some days you find out you have jury duty……in Rolling freaking Meadows. A full 26.7 miles, or an hour plus in Chicago traffic time, from where your carless ass cannot drive. Where you’ll do your civic duty while feasting on a cornucopia of vended saturated fats.
It’s been one of those days.
09.21.08
Wine Tasting
He kisses me in all the ways I’ve always wanted to be kissed.
Softly and with purpose. Holding my head in his hands, running his fingers through my hair, tucking a loose strand behind an ear. He pulls me closer, hands on my lower back and hips. He tilts my head backward, grazing my neck, a bared collarbone. He pins my wrists. And I’m breathless when he goes for a sip of wine.
“You’re bad,” he smiles, shaking his head.
I muster a “why,” although I can guess the answer.
“The way you’re looking at me.”
“How’s that?” I ask with feigned innocence.
“I can’t….you’d need a writer from one of your books to describe it,” and he nods toward my overworked bookcase.
“Then kiss me again until you’ve found the words.”
And he did, tasting of Cabernet.
09.19.08
Here I Go Again
There is a boy. How do I write of my school-girl glee for this one?
I’m smitten, I think. I’m the kind of giddy where I smile stupidly every time I think of him, every time his name is on my phone. I can’t help myself.
He’s pretty. I tell you readers, he is oh so pretty. And it tickles my fancy to no end. The kind of pretty that isn’t at all “pretty,” but in every regard screams man. The kind that can hang things around the house. The kind that gets out of the double-parked car to greet you at your door for your date. The kind that properly orders, then unpretentiously swirls his wine. The kind that can pick you up and throw you down on the bed; knows exactly what to do with you.
He’s funny in a quietly unexpected sort of way, with just the right amount of sarcasm. He’s smart and quick-witted and appreciates my sense of humor. And he listens and respects and makes me feel special. We share the same values (except- of course- politically) and have similar interests and a common background- we actually went to high school together, but met at our 10-year reunion. He’s the perfect mix of small town upbringing and city capability. And most important of all, I can be myself with him- completely.
This boy does things to me. He makes me want to listen to Sinatra. And I want to make him pancakes. Don’t ask me why. I just do.
I know I like him way too much already, but there it is. I’m ready. Ready to try again. Ready to take the chance.
