Monday, July 30, 2012

"Love is much nicer to be in than an automobile accident, a tight girdle, a higher tax bracket or a holding pattern over Philadelphia."

(Judith Viorst)

I totaled my car. The details are of course important, but they are not for public consumption, so let's just say, I was driving and then all of a sudden, I was in a crash.

This all happened on July 21st, which was Saturday a week ago. I was driving to work. Suffice to say, I didn't get there. Instead, East End Sally picked me up from the emergency room (no broken bones, just a few scratches and of course, whiplash). We had lunch at Wendy's, and then cleared out my car. You might imagine, if you know me at all, that there were many library books, magazines, books on CD, and other car related detritus, such as maps. Also, most importantly: my house keys. They had been on the passenger seat, not in my purse, and so that is why Sally and I went to clear out my car, so that I could get back into my apartment. Also retrieved from car: my EZ Pass, the contents of my glove box, and my license plate. I took a picture of my bumper stickers: an "LW" oval sticker for the Lake We Go To, a political bumper sticker, and most recently added, "Got Milkweed?," which refers to the fact that milkweed is the host plant for Monarch butterflies. 

My mother decided to drive up from Virginia, bless her, bless her, bless her. She stayed with me in my apartment through Monday evening, doing motherly things like cooking meals, making me fold laundry, and helping me get rid of a little bit more of my clutter. Also, listening. Also, talking. Also, hugs. 

Since then, it's been chiropractic appointments, calls to and from my insurance company, emails to and from my insurance company, rental cars, copious amounts of paperwork, faxing things, notaries, and not a lot of time to do anything besides go to work and sleep. 

In other news, I have gotten to a place where I am ready to say, that was a great relationship. A short winter diversion. Time well spent with a sweet funny man. Who changed. And there's nothing I can do to change the fact that he changed. And there's no way I could have known that he was going to change, there's no way I could have seen that it was going to end badly. A friend reminded me today that I was very thoughtful about every step of the relationship, from the beginning, whee!!, to the middle, hello?, to the middle middle, the waiting game, to the end, a whimper, not a bang. It was good to have that reminder. I cried a little.

I'm ready to give him back his Michigan sweatshirts. And I'm ready to stop badmouthing both of us, we were just a couple of kids who did some kissing and stargazing on some cold winter nights. 

Thursday, July 19, 2012

"It's been 7 hours and fifteen days..."

 (Sinead O'Connor)

So, it's been a week since he broke up with me. Or rather, said, not in a cute Billy Crystal voice, "I would not be good for anyone right now."

And I've been doing a lot of thinking. And a lot of reading. Watching Friends. Thinking about hooking my DVD player up so that I can watch Bones and SATC.

And here's the problem I keep butting up against: I don't think the boy is right now "leading man" material. I want to be "leading lady" material, but it I'm really honest, the boy would be a two episode guy, like the new neighbor that Rachel fogged out with pesticide in the basement and then went on a date, but it turns out he had a really inappropriate relationship with his sister.

And I want him to be like Chandler, who knows that he loves Monica. He actually does remind me of early days Chandler. He also reminds me of Mr. Big, the good, the bad, the ugly.

And the fact of the matter is this: RIGHT NOW, he is not available for anyone. (Which is actually sort of comforting.)

And right now, neither am I, as I grieve what was. We had two amazing months. Because I am a romantic at heart, and because I loved him, I can't, not right now, say "NEVER AGAIN, MR. BOY." I cling to the stories of my mom breaking up with my dad again and again over nine years. (Now happily married for over forty two years...)

This post is full of me writing things and then erasing them. But it just takes time. I've been listening to the audio of "It's called a break-up because it's broken," which was helpful when my high school best friend said she didn't want to be friends anymore. (Because there are no good books about what to do when your best friend breaks up with you.)

I vacillate: is he Mr. Big? Or is he Berger? Or is he that two episode guy? Right now, he's the guy who broke my heart. And I'm the girl who needs to heal. 

And comments are closed. I don't need advice right now. I just need cupcakes. Where I need to get? I will get there. I'm right on time.

Monday, July 16, 2012

post script to a long long day...

There's a station that I rely on for what I call the Sunday afternoon movie. It's called THIS. I couldn't tell you what I watched this afternoon. But this afternoon, I watched something, while I worked through all of the followers on my Twitter account. I did a lot of blocking. Why?

Last night, a woman who used to work at my library (at least a year or so before I did) tweeted me with this:

@sarahlouise: As someone who used to work with both parties involved, heartache sucks, but move on...and I'm sorry. #unsolicitedadvice
@sarahlouise: You are welcome. On the west coast now, but I still care about what happens to the xPL folks! Hang in there!

I have no idea how this woman knows who I am. Or thinks she knows who I was dating. 

She is a librarian. Yes, a lot of librarians follow me on Twitter. And I suppose if you had followed me way back when my professional blog was linked to my twitter account, you could figure it out. Or if you knew someone at my job. But wouldn't you think you would establish a relationship before you would tweet "as someone who used to work with both parties involved"? It's like a parlor trick. That one moment when you can say, "I used to work with both parties" (untrue, since I never worked with this woman) and "I still care what happens to the xPL folks!" (ah yes, the caring of a stranger creeping you out, late on a Saturday night.)

Since she followed me, I could direct message her. She couldn't direct message me, since I don't follow her. But she could have answered via tweet. I didn't think about it very long before I just blocked her.

What's strange? Her tweets to me have disappeared. I only have them because I copied them into a Facebook chat I had with a coworker who helped me figure out who this could be and how they might think they knew who I was.

I haven't decided if I'm unprotecting my twitter account. It's not that I tweet state secrets. But just like in real life, I wear my heart on my sleeve, and when a complete stranger, someone who thinks she knows who I am because she knows my name, knows my place of employ, someone who has been reading my tweets...

Well, anyways. 

Sunday, July 15, 2012

The most boring broken hearted blog post you ever read...

Maybe watching The Country Network isn't the best choice for an afternoon of sitting on the bed, pink Kleenexes all around, a deep voiced man singing about how being a man makes him love this beautiful (oh look and pregnant) woman.


Am NOW watching, well, a carpet commercial.


Okay, now, the wonderful Serena Williams, on Trust us with your life, an improv comedy show. Um, I think you need to kind of need to watch it. I mean this is silly silly...


and now I'm watching "I love Lucy." A much better choice.

Maybe I should go to the grocery store. Which would require maybe taking a shower. So...maybe not. Maybe I'll go get my newspaper, if they haven't stopped delivery...the bill is on the kitchen table.

Oh, here starts another episode of Lucy. Saved...

Okay...we just went in the opposite direction. We just had the episode where Little Ricky was a drummer and now we're having the episode where we find out that that he has a natural talent. Ricky secretly orders a drum. Lucy buys Little Ricky a doctor kit.


This is what happens. Every time a commercial I hate comes on, I [CLICK]. So I [CLICK]-ed over to PBS and heard the end of "Cat's in the Cradle" and now I'm hearing "All out of Love," the first song that I heart ached over when I realized that my first crush didn't know I existed. It was 1980 and I was 9.

I'm all of love
I'm so lost with out you
I know you were right believing for so long. 
I can't be too late to say I was so wrong
What are you thinking of 
What are you thinking of?
What are you thinking of?

I'm all... oh. He doesn't...WHAT IS HE THINKING OF??

I'm so lost without you...

This Guy Is Butchering This Song. How can they be applauding him? What is this show? Oh it's Celtic Thunder. Now they're doing the sort of song they should do. A song with fiddles and such.

And now it's the PBS guys, asking for money. Um, after you butchered the first love song that made me cry?


Thursday, July 12, 2012

"I even tried writing a song about it... but... I can't think of anything that rhymes with Unnnnnnngh"

(Phoebe Buffay, played by Lisa Kudrow, Friends, "The one with the memorial service")

If the library kept a record of the books I checked out, (which they don't, for privacy measures*), a pattern might emerge.

An abridged list of my checkouts, March to present day:

In March: a slew of books on Catholicism

In April: Too good to leave, too bad to stay: a step-by-step guide to help you decide whether to stay in or get out of your relationship by Mira Kirshenbaum, Is he Mr. Right: everything you need to know before you commit (same author) 

In May: I returned all those. 

In June: Act like a lady, think like a man: what men really think about love, relationships, intimacy and committment by Steve Harvey; Why smart men marry smart women by Christine Whelan. 
(oh, and I also re-joined the Catholic Church, so took out books like Story of a Soul, which is Therese of Liseux's autobiography)

In July: Boundaries face to face: how to have that difficult conversation you've been avoiding. (audio) I listened to this ages ago, I can't remember what the difficult conversation was that I was trying to have...

Requested, today, after lunch with the boy: It's called a break-up because it's broken by Greg Behrendt. (audio) I listened to this a few years back when I was dealing with the break-up of a friendship, so I know it is good.


In Fiction, I have been reading and re-reading The Meryl Streep Movie Club (also from the library, although I think I will shell out the cash for my own copy soon), by Mia March. It is a wonderful book about four women who are in different stages of dealing with loss of job, loss of spouse (an affair), potential loss of mother/aunt to cancer, and loss of freedom (as in, should I marry this guy??) It is just what the doctor ordered and it just lowers my blood pressure just enough. Also, I'm going to start watching Meryl Streep movies. On Sunday, by sheer chance, Lions for Lambs was on TV, and I have ordered Out of Africa from, where else, the library. 

*as soon as you return a book, it is taken off your record. Items can be traced back to the last person that checked it out, if there is damage, or a missing disc, or you left your personal disc in the case instead of returning the library's disc.