This happened today:
After finishing his after-work shower and grooming ritual, Boyfriend walks out of bedroom into living/dining room.
He looks at me standing there, my wet, red rimmed eyes full of tears.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"I...I just missed you," I answer softly.
He looks at me strangely, walks by me into the kitchen and blurts, "You were chopping onions!"
I giggle.
Over him
I saw him by coincidence a few weeks ago. He looked dejected. While talking to him, I opened a bottle of sparkling water and it exloded all over my shirt. To my surprise, I wasn't horrified and embarassed. I was rather apathetic, relieved it was only water. I took that as a sign that I was over him.
Over him. Over him.
Six years ago I found someone else. Six years ago. I found someone else.
When he came knocking on my door, I turned him away.
I had someone else.
Late night, his voice at my door, jokingly: "Pizza!"
Someone else was in my apartment with me. I didn't open the door... "I uh... already ordered..."
"Aw, man..." he said, and I heard him shuffle away.
And it was over.
Over.
That was six years ago.
Few weeks ago, I didn't care that I looked like shit, I didn't care that as I stood in front of him making small talk, I opened a sparkling water and it exploded on me. I'm over him, I thought. Afterwards, a slight haughty smile. So proud of myself. Over him over him over him.
Few minutes ago: I just saw a church bulletin. His name next to someone else's,
married in July.
Oh my God.
My chest got tight and I couldn't breathe.
IRON CHEF
Last night I watched the Iron Chef, and the featured food item was snails. Oh, and snail eggs. They called the translucent, white snail eggs "pearls of the forest." I got all nauseous. No exaggeration, I could have thrown up. I changed the channel, but it was like a scary movie. I kept going back to scare myself. To nauseate myself.
They were chopping up mounds of snails, into a huge pile of snail chunks, and it looked gross. I could never, ever be a judge on that show and eat some of that stuff. Now that I think about it, with how picky I am, I should be a lot thinner.
When I worked for a French chef, I served a lot of escargot. (In little white porcelain snail shells)They smelled declicious, but I wouldn't eat them. Pierre was talented. He could probably cover a turd in garlic, wine and butter and make your mouth water.
Unsure as to how to react to thunder/lightning.
Sitting under a tree petting Beast, a cat who lives along my way home from work. Suddenly, very loud thunder. Beast and I both look up, he tenses, I wonder if I shouldn't be sitting under a tree. I have over three more miles to ride before home. I get back on my bike and take off, hoping it doesn't pour on me. Beast, who usually tries to stop my leaving by jumping up my leg or blocking my bike with his body lets me go this time, spooked by the thunder.
I got away from the tree, thinking I shouldn't be next to the tallest thing around. I'm about to take my bike into the middle of the street, when I realized that would make me the tallest thing around with nothing near me. My goal: Not be an antenna. I wonder instead how fast I can make it to the nearest shelter-- a gas station with mini mart for cover.
The sky is lighter and has blue patchy chunks in the direction I'm going. I bike quickly, trying to get out from under the dark gray clouds I'm currently underneath. Zipping past an alley and thru an uncontrolled intersection, I realize my chances of being hit by a car are higher than getting hit by lightning. Friday a lady tried to make a left turn on a green light, figuring if she went really fast as soon as the light turned green, she could cut in front of the cars trying to go straight. I saw her coming. She would have hit me. It's always the intersections. She never even saw me.
I slow down. It's not raining on me, and I believe I'm headed for clearer weather. The sky in the horizon is stacked in multiple layers of blues. I see an odd color of aqua I've never seen before. I wish I had my camera. I turn down a residential street away from the main road, and something new: fat white painted lines. I'm joyous. It's a bike lane, freshly painted. I'm happy, I have my own little area. Now the SUV's have a visual barrier. You stay on your side, I'll stay on mine. I see a little white painted bike rider guy: A Chinese bicyclist freshly stenciled on the ground--I can tell he's Chinese by his rice-picker hat. I think, "How PC. Now street stencils are multicultural." But that doesn't sit right with me. I keep riding and see another stenciled bike rider on the ground, identifying my lane as the bike lane, and figure out it's not a rice picker hat. It's a bike helmet. I think, 'the helmet is too big. It's not proportionately realistic.'
Note to self:
take picture of little bike guy in rice picker hat for blog.
ANTI-AGING
Ah, the joys of hanging on to the few precious moments one has of the thirties. Forty is looming ahead of me, big and scary. I imagine it like a gigantic chinese gong, someone hits it and it sounds, "you're old, you're old, you're oldddddd..." (echo.) Not that forty is old, mind you, it's just a thing I have with any age that ends in a Y.
I'm scouring the internet looking for anti aging products. Reviews. Information. Anything that will keep me from looking FORTY. That's my scary number. It used to be thirty. I won't even think about fifty.
In the last month, I've purchased, ingested, smeared on my face the following:
anti aging night cream,
anti aging twice a week serum,
anti aging cleanser,
sun screen,
oolong tea,
green tea,
pinot noir,
hazelnuts,
dark chocolate,
salmon,
and I'm sure I've probably forgotten a couple.
Oh, berries.
All of which are supposed to reverse the signs of aging.
I'll spend hours scouring the net or ebay either researching or trying to find stuff. Since I'm on a pay-off-my-bills-mission, I can't go overboard, meaning I'm sittin' there looking at this expensive face cream trying to figure out if it's cheaper to buy a shitload of sample packets on ebay, or maybe think about paying down a credit card.
And here's what I've noticed: My skin seems to be looking okay, a bit tighter, but my frown lines have worsened. The two wrinkles between my eyebrows that I won't botox (It's fucking BOTULISM, okay?). My eyebrow wrinkles have worsened since I've been on my anti aging kick. And I realized, it's not because of aging. It's not due to the products, or lack of them. It's because I make a frowny face when I concentrate on the computer!!! All those hours or scouring the net for stuff is giving me wrinkles!!!
But will I stop? Nooooooooooooooo.
Because at this rate, I should look like a three year old soon.
