I never realized that my dad and I both have the same morning habits: up early, downstairs in the kitchen before breakfast, reading. (In our pjs and robes. That was the part that hit me on the head. My mother never comes downstairs unless she's fully dressed.) It used to of course just be the paper, but of course now it's the computer, which whomever gets there first, the other one vies for.
He also has paper issues. As in, not going through and getting rid of paper. Ding!
It was such a comfort to have him drive me to Hagerstown--he was ready (I did have to prime the pump though...) with a "I've been there" story, a girl he'd dated that right before the six months broke it off (and my father is a romantic, I'm sure he was keeping track of the six month mark). And four months later she got married. Oh, I've been THERE. (Mr. Ten Years Ago was engaged within six months of our demise.)
I feel better, but I still have this stupid cold--the mucous, well, I'll leave it there so as not to go all TMI on you. I can't pretend it's because I haven't dusted in FOREVER.
Resolution, once this cold is gone: take a walk every day.
Resolution, once this cold has been gone a few days: to dust.
Yesterday, I did park once. Meaning, I parked in the middle of the parking lot, went into Kmart, then walked to the chiropractor, at a brisk pace, then back to Kmart, then back to the car. I didn't break any mile marker records, but hey, it was a little bit of exercise...
I doubt that will happen today. Today I'll pretty much go to work and then come home and be a couch potato whilst continuing to do laundry and unpack. I honestly can't believe I'm going to publish this--it is so not thrilling...
But it's better than what I wrote when I first sat down, which was full of the reasons we're not together. (I'm sure that would be more thrilling, sorry SP, but it got way too personal, even for me.)
It's really nice to not have him here. I mean, we live in the same house, but we're loud enough that we didn't run into each other, but I heard him. In from work, slam! Leaving for work, slam! (And then I'd watch him out the front window, walking to his car.) Just knowing he's NOT downstairs, just not hearing the slam!s, well, it helps. His mail started back yesterday, so I don't know when to expect him...but he's not here now, and he wasn't here last night.
And I continue to listen to High Fidelity in the car. And I've been re-reading A long way down. One of these days I really am going to write to Nick Hornby. Because honestly, I don't think I would have survived this summer without listening to A long way down in the car. And I don't know who better to get me through this "Oughngh!" stage than Mr. H. It helps to know that he's married and has a kid, so he survived this, made it through to the other side.
It's actually sort of a joke between me and myself--because on my Facebook page, I've added "Books" and the books I'm reading are "Slam!" and "A long way down" by Nick Hornby. And books to read: "Fever Pitch" by guess who. Finished reading: "High Fidelity" by, yes, Nick, the Nickster. Well, I take a bit of a turn with Favorites, I put "Blue like Jazz" and "Traveling Mercies." But it occurs to me that I really identify with the 30-something male characters. More than any of the chick lit I've read. Maybe because they all had swank jobs in publishing and I sort of hated them for that. Maybe because they lived in New York and I sort of hated them for that (because I always wanted to live in New York and work in publishing.) But they were never grungy enough for me. It makes me wonder what my novel will be like, once I get around to writing it. Because grunge, grit, heck, I live in the grunge capital. Seattle may claim it, but it's really too shiny. Pittsburgh just pretends to be shiny.
Okay, I better eat something and take some cold medicine. It is FREEZING sitting at the computer in front of these windows.
I ordered the complete fourth season of SATC. Oh, I am looking forward to watching them all, Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, Miranda.
Brrr...okay, I'm moving!!
2 years ago
6 comments:
I think you've just summed up why I DON'T like most chick lit! I never put it all together before, but (a) I HAVE worked in publishing, and I HATED it, and (b) I have NO desire to ever live in NYC.
Huh. Who knew?!
Oh, and I like gritty -- I NEED gritty -- in a book, too!
ah, so the final test is--do you like Nick Hornby?
Well it sounds like everything is moving along.
Even if I don't get to read the personal details.
Here's to being loud!!
I have only read one of his books, and I did not care for it all that much. I'm more of a Chuck Palahniuk/Jonathan Lethem kind of gal.
Okay... I am an entirely different generation and live in a totally different environment. The movie High Fidelity was on TV last week, so out of curiosity, (and respect for SL) I thought I'd give it a shot. I watched for about 30 minutes and gave it up. It depressed the hell out of me! Yikes. I am just scratching my head---it is fascinating what different worlds people create.
God bless you in 2008 and keep up the recovery!!
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