Sunday, July 24, 2011

Even Robots Hurt

Well, my voice sounds as dry as a west Texas town. Allergies got me down Friday, but even though I sound like a pre-pubescent male frog, I feel fine. Smoking and screaming doesn't help either.

I feel like this was a wasted weekend. Sure I accomplished plenty, but what do I have to show for it: no piece of mind, no resolve, a filthy house, and no clean laundry.

Friday night Julia and I had a "stay in, beer night" that I found lovely. I had stayed home from work sick and really wanted to get out of the house, but didn't have the energy (or money) to go out, so it was purrrfect. I got to see Beth, Matt, and Alison so it felt slightly social. I watched Eastbound and Down for the first time, and absolutely loved it.

The Vest Friends had another hilarious comedy camp on Saturday. I was introduced to the game show Baggage. Shit, I thought I invented that concept four years ago! After a round-robin we determined my baggage would definitely be the engagement ring I bought myself seven years ago. I packed it away when I thought I didn't want or need it, but found it several months ago. Yes, I liked it so I put a gorgeous ring on my own damn finger! The saddest thing, however, is that now I can't stop wearing it. Have no fear; crazy wears it on her right hand. The silver lining is that four years ago I aired my dirty laundry the second I met someone and not only has that dirty laundry been washed, fluffed, and folded, but now it isn't considered personal baggage, but something I've conquered.

After Vest Friends, Jamie and I went to the Continental Club for some free dancing to James Intveld. I, of course, didn't get much dancing in since nobody asked me to. I was surprisingly hurt and even though I'm a terrible dancer I'm usually eager to try. This time, however, after holding up the wall for an hour I would have felt like an idiot stumbling over any feet that might have asked.

JJ had his 30th birthday party Saturday night and I had a lovely, drunken, big-mouthed, blast! I got to catch up with pals I hadn't seen in months, act a fool, chitty chat like old times with Katie, fall in love all over again with Ashley, meet some babies, dance on a picnic table, and be happy-go-lucky without the fear of judgement (total Dance, Dance, Party, Party! style). It was great, but more importantly, JJ had a great time, Dirty Socks Dirty Thoughts were reunited, and all his extended friends came. I talked too damned much to everyone about anything and lost my voice.

So, that brings me to today......
I woke up without being able to talk. My father called to chat, but I wasn't able to actually form any words. I felt bad, because it would have been really nice to talk to him. I really like where our relationship is at the moment, that he calls me out of the blue on a Sunday morning, is concerned that I'm ill, and just wants to hear about my vacation. I know that's what a relationship with your father is supposed to be like, but after "cutting him off" for five years, I never would have imagined reconnecting could have been so easy. I really hope I'm learning from this. Maybe I put too many expectations on the people in my life and just saying, "F.U. I can't do this anymore" is selfish, but not in the good/healthy way.

I once let down a best friend of mine. And, by saying "let down" I'm being kind to myself. I once completely turned their world upside down, abandoned him, and then lost even the slightest bit of human compassion. I still regret it, but have most certainly been delt my punishment through karma. I sit here wondering how relationships can fall apart so unexpectedly. I've wondered this for years and the best answer I've come up with is a lack of honesty. Now I'm so honest with myself and my friends that I think it might be my biggest fault. If I'm thinking it, you know damn well I'm going to say it. Anyhow, I've been trying to reach out to my old pal and sure enough he's skeptical about my motives. I don't think I've ever known anyone better than I knew him, even though he never quite understood me. Regardless, he still affects my thoughts and I doubt he has any clue how much he helped me tonight. His bare-bones approach was thrown out the window and might have been my 'sugar bear' this evening:
ME: Could you teach me how to be a robot?
John: I think you can figure it out. Emotionally, it's not as easy as it looks.

When I think of my whole self, I think of a wet, hot, mess of a brilliantly put together girl. I know just how to fall apart and play the part. I've got to get out of this town. I'd like to smell the ocean, see my dad, and sleep in the park next to someone. I'd like to have hands that looked like Barbara Striesand's.

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