I was asked out today. More about that later.
First, let me say that I am so, so, SO holding up my part of the new life bargain. I am giving space where every ounce of me has never known to give it, AND FOR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES I HAVE GIVEN UP (THE ENTIRE BOTTLE OF) WINE AND PIZZA AND LAUGHING COW CHEESE IN THE SPAN OF TWO MONTHS, DAMMIT. When a girl changes her WHOLE LIFE (I’m not kidding when I use those caps, dear readers) and tries to improve herself to the core – to be a more selfless friend and more attentive daughter and a woman who can put someone else’s needs before her own, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND OPRAH AND ALL THAT IS HOLY*, CAN SOMEONE JUST THROW HER A FUCKING BONE?
And by bone, I’m talking to you, Arlington County, home of the enigmas that are Katie Couric and Crystal City. Isn’t it nice that when a girl goes out to get some off this off her mind, and drinks one glass of wine too many, and does the responsible, Sex and the City thing and takes an overpriced cab back into DC, that you TOW HER CAR AT 5:50 ON A WEEKEND MORNING? Screw Virginia and her lovers.
Moral: A breakup, a hangover, NO VISIBLE TOW COMPANY NUMBER, and an unexpected 100 bucks out of pocket are just a few ways to ruin a new pair of contacts.
But onward it was. (“I made it a whole week!”) And then in the middle of an innocuous conversation I noticed a man was talking to me in a way that seemed just slightly different than the moment before. I could feel it coming. And then for the first time since the beau and I completely stopped talking (which shall heretofore be referred to as After Silence, or AS, as opposed to Before Silence, or BS. Today is roughly 10 days AS. You’ll catch on.), it came.
And this man is so nice. And has such a nice way about him. And means so well.
And all I could think about when he asked me was how in that very instant I might actually be sick.
(No, party people. Please don’t tell me how this is a good thing and I should feel wonderful about how someone wants to date me and this bodes well as now I will certainly not be the last of the Marsh girls to get married off of Papa’s farm.)
Because it just doesn’t matter.
Though no fault of his own, I don’t want to go out with this man. I don’t want to do 4-minute dating or see That Drunk Guy slinking toward me from across the bar or – shudder – fill out an eHarmony profile so I can finally realize that, after all, I’m only compatible with my dad.
What I’d like very much is to have my last relationship back circa one year in. When we used to be a team against the world, when we flirted over email and knew we were funnier and stronger than any other damn couple on the planet, when we could read the other’s mind with only a glance, when we seemed to be the only couple who vehemently refused to sit on the same side of the table at the goddamn Ruby Tuesday.
I should never have put another pair of new contacts in.
*Weight gods, please note that this statement is in no way intended for you, and that I appreciate every ounce of the 12.2 pounds you have let me lose thus far.
First, let me say that I am so, so, SO holding up my part of the new life bargain. I am giving space where every ounce of me has never known to give it, AND FOR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES I HAVE GIVEN UP (THE ENTIRE BOTTLE OF) WINE AND PIZZA AND LAUGHING COW CHEESE IN THE SPAN OF TWO MONTHS, DAMMIT. When a girl changes her WHOLE LIFE (I’m not kidding when I use those caps, dear readers) and tries to improve herself to the core – to be a more selfless friend and more attentive daughter and a woman who can put someone else’s needs before her own, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND OPRAH AND ALL THAT IS HOLY*, CAN SOMEONE JUST THROW HER A FUCKING BONE?
And by bone, I’m talking to you, Arlington County, home of the enigmas that are Katie Couric and Crystal City. Isn’t it nice that when a girl goes out to get some off this off her mind, and drinks one glass of wine too many, and does the responsible, Sex and the City thing and takes an overpriced cab back into DC, that you TOW HER CAR AT 5:50 ON A WEEKEND MORNING? Screw Virginia and her lovers.
Moral: A breakup, a hangover, NO VISIBLE TOW COMPANY NUMBER, and an unexpected 100 bucks out of pocket are just a few ways to ruin a new pair of contacts.
But onward it was. (“I made it a whole week!”) And then in the middle of an innocuous conversation I noticed a man was talking to me in a way that seemed just slightly different than the moment before. I could feel it coming. And then for the first time since the beau and I completely stopped talking (which shall heretofore be referred to as After Silence, or AS, as opposed to Before Silence, or BS. Today is roughly 10 days AS. You’ll catch on.), it came.
And this man is so nice. And has such a nice way about him. And means so well.
And all I could think about when he asked me was how in that very instant I might actually be sick.
(No, party people. Please don’t tell me how this is a good thing and I should feel wonderful about how someone wants to date me and this bodes well as now I will certainly not be the last of the Marsh girls to get married off of Papa’s farm.)
Because it just doesn’t matter.
Though no fault of his own, I don’t want to go out with this man. I don’t want to do 4-minute dating or see That Drunk Guy slinking toward me from across the bar or – shudder – fill out an eHarmony profile so I can finally realize that, after all, I’m only compatible with my dad.
What I’d like very much is to have my last relationship back circa one year in. When we used to be a team against the world, when we flirted over email and knew we were funnier and stronger than any other damn couple on the planet, when we could read the other’s mind with only a glance, when we seemed to be the only couple who vehemently refused to sit on the same side of the table at the goddamn Ruby Tuesday.
I should never have put another pair of new contacts in.
*Weight gods, please note that this statement is in no way intended for you, and that I appreciate every ounce of the 12.2 pounds you have let me lose thus far.
38 Comments:
I'm curious as to where you were parked that got you towed on a weekend morning
I left another coment but the system no likey.
It's a sign from BLOG that I shouldn't have.
Who's this guy tryin to mack on my Jersey?!
Hit the bricks Jackson, I'm workin this side of the street!!
I swear,I can't leave you alone for one friggin minute.
here's a bone kris - you are, by far, the most amazing writer in blog heaven....thanks for always making me laugh and think about what you've written (since you already know i have to read everything you write twice for me to understand). here's hoping that eharmony won't ever have to touch your life! :)
*smooches*
It hurts 'til it doesn't hurt anymore.
Hey Mama,
Hopefully you got your car back.
Sounds like the world is tossing you shit, and you're not wearing your "I am rubber you are glue" suit. Although I guess shit would probably not bounce off anything unless it was frozen...
ANYWAY
It is flattering when people take interest. But some of these people are vultures, trying to prey on who they think is weak. Reject his ass if you want. It's your life, for gosh sakes. Just store that up and put it in the confidence bank. Everything that can go in there SHOULD go in there. Whether you need it or not.
The game is afoot, my dear.
It sucks when things don't work out the way you want, but time doesn't stop for you unless you have a time machine, or your own gravity. And seeing as you're 12 pounds or so lighter, I would rule out the gravity thing.
Not much that I can say that you already wouldn't know. The joy of having the DSM edge, I suppose.
Just remember how much you mean to other people not located so close to you.
JOrge
Would it make you feel better if I asked you out? You know I will.
And I'm sorry that the evil tow truck took the Sentra, hopefully she recovered well from such a shock.
Oh man.
That hit right in the gut.
I'm sorry.
12.2 pounds? Damn, girl!
We must be inverse blog soulmates considering I have gained 12.2 pounds. If that's the case, could you please limit your weight loss to 30 pounds for my sake?
doesn't it feel nice to have the option of saying no? i'm thinking drinking wine is in order to wash that man out of your hair.
glasses raised for the 12.2 pounds lost!
See... I was totally going to ask you out, but I didn't want to induce vomiting. There's only so much an ego can take after all!
And then, when I heard you were a hardened criminal who wantonly leaves her car parked overnight... Well, let's just say that I feel lucky to have avoided being dragged down into that gutter!
By the way, they would do that towing thing here if they could get around the pesky having to give you warning thing - so instead they just tag you with a big ticket...even if you see the cop and tell him you're catching a ride home because you've been drinking and will get your car in the morning.
A classic case here happened a few weeks ago when the cops ticketed a car downtown for several days before they realized it belonged to a woman that was missing and there had been statewide alert about her vehicle for three of the days they were ticketing it.
(P.S. - there's not a bad end to that story by the way...the woman was fine...in addition to being fined.)
Sorry about your car...that SUCKS! There should be some sort of allowance given for those who chose not to drive drunk, don't ya think?
As for the relationship issue...I know what you mean about wanting the good part of an old relationship back. Been there, felt that. BUT...the relationship is over for a reason...so onward and upward. Find someone that you won't experience an AS and BS with...someone where you won't be able to pinpoint a happy time because every day is a happy time. I know, I know...easier said than done.
But everything in your own time.
Congrats on losing the 12.2 pounds...that's awesome. I've gotta get on track with that!
I know that feeling. It actually gets worse if you go, so I am glad you are recognizing it.
I am jealous of your 12.2 lbs...that's gotta be 2 sizes!
Ugggg!!
Congrats on the 12.2 pounds lost! (If you have any tricks for losing it, let me know, would ya?)
I totally understand the whole breakup thing. My ex-bf and I dated for several years, broke up, and then he got MARRIED three months later. Talk about vomit inducing.
Anyway, from the other side of break-up grief, I can tell you that it gets better. Not for a long time, because let's face it, you wouldn't have been with him if he didn't mean a lot to you. But it will get better.
In the meantime, keep losing that weight. I find the best medicine for heartache is to 'accidentally' run into the ex while looking completely fabulous.
I heart you Kris. We ALL do.
Someone will come along and make you want to date again. Kill them.
12.2 lbs--nice work there, missy. You are kicking caloric a$$ and taking names...
Sorry to hear about the tow truck incident. I once got towed twice in three days in college, and from then on I have always supported the legalization of hunting tow truck drivers for sport.
Happily, if happens again and you find yourself out another $100 bucks, my good friend Anonymous has found a place where you can make some nice extra cash secret shopping. Just go to the site below
and put in your zip to see what's available in your area.
And set the contacts aside for awhile yet--I bet you look just as happenin' in glasses...
Vomitous feelings? Totally normal. I cried on the way home from my first three dates after McF and I split that first year. You read through all my bad date posts. Hopefully, when you're ready, you'll have bad dates of your own. They only add to the humor when blogging!
You were my #1 unknown supporter then. I'm right there with you now, like everyone else.
Shoot - I've had many a weekend ticket in VA, but never been towed. That STINKS!
I'm predicting that 40 days AS you'll be feeling much better...
OH. MY. GOSH. How long has it been since I've read of your wisdom? I'm so sorry for your breakup. I don't really know what happened -- I have to go back through the archives, I suppose...
I completely know how you feel -- that you are so repulsed at another guy asking you out. Don't feel guilty about that. It's your sense of loyalty kicking in. That's an admirable trait. It will go away when you're ready to move on.
At least your life is still WAY more interesting than mine :)
...and you have a new job -- more than I can say... :)
Awww...I'm sorry. The post-breakup phase is not a fun one. Hang in there, and keep on doing what you're doing. It'll get better, I promise!
there is nothing i can say to make this better but i will say, i got your back and feel your pain.
congrats on the 12.2lbs!
you are still a stellar rock star!
Well congrats on the 12.2 pounds. Sorry about the rest. Some day you'll be ready for nice guys like this.
I know exactly what you mean. I'm not ready either. I want to be, but when it comes down to it, my hearts just not in it.
This is one of those rare times when I wish you weren't such a magnificent writer. I felt that punch-to-the-gut pang of nausea. Been there. Done that. And so wish that you weren't going through it. Don't even consider dating, probably not for months. It won't take your mind off your pain, just the opposite. Shun anyone who suggests otherwise.
As for the weight loss, my sincere congratulations and envy. But giving up wine? Now? Reminds me of one of my favorite movie lines, from Airplane: "I sure picked a hell of a week to give up smoking crack."
Good times. They'll be back. And that man who comes along at the right time and asks you out? And you say yes? One lucky bastard, yes indeed. ;-)
OK. I am reverting back to the aforementioned (previous blog post comments) Margarita Intervention. Seriously. When are you free. I'm e-mailing you now.
"...fill out an eHarmony profile so I can finally realize that, after all, I’m only compatible with my dad."
Should I have laughed hysterically at this? 'Cause I did.
I once filled out an eHarmony profile for shits and giggles while I was seeing someone. The response was basically "there is NO ONE in this world with whom you're compatible. If you actually HAVE someone and you're just filling this out for shits and giggles, cling to that person like grim death because no one else in the world would ever tolerate you."
Oh God! You Devil!
Seriously, who lets you go? You rock. Be strong.
MAN I hear you on the illness-inducing ask-out. God love the poor bastard for having the good taste and the balls to ask you, but MAN is it not the time right now!! The previous fella is a damn fool, Kris. I'm just saying. And I'd intervene with some margs anytime if I actually knew you in real life. Probably best that we don't since together we could have the mother of all drinking problems.
UGH. No two ways about it, that's a lot of garbarge in a short period. Here's to a quick trip through the initial awfulness of the not-talking, and a swift and painful case of mouth herpes to the people who towed your car *clinks wineglass*
If the threat of dating is enough to induce nausea, you're not ready for further punishment....yet.
It's good to know, however, that you've lost weight and are apparently taking care of yourself enough that men are still attracted to you. You could easily have just wallowed in a sea of confusion and despair where you wear sweat pants full time, don't shower and only leaving the house to get fast food or Starbucks.
Thus, there's hope.
There's also someone out there who understands your secret, special skill. And you'll meet and you'll see his secret, special skill. And you'll both understand immediately that everyone else out there (except the two of you) are complete idiots. And you'll do this with just a single glance. It'll happen.
If you can't wait for that to happen, make lots of bacon. We man-types are totally fished in by that smell.
Omg, I may cry for you. I gave up my trusty cigarettes and fatty food in a span of a month. This week I had a run in with a trash can that is costing me $500 b/c my car is a piece of poo.
You are a fabulous writer and sound like a girl that can do anything she sets her mind to. This includes going out with guys even though the prospect of it makes her sick. Not because you want to but because you have to in order to be able to see yourself as a seperate entity.
I feel for you, girl and am sending positive vibes your way!
Sweet magic 8-Ball how much is one woman supposed to take? Enough, ye gods of misfortune! Leave Likey alone! At least allow her a few squares of Laughing Cow.
Come to New York City. Don't bring the car. There are martinis in pretty colors here waiting for you. And some cheese.
Ugh. Triple ugh, actually. Maybe this will cap off the shitty part of the year, though, and it'll only get better from here? Maybe?
What a great read this was, how so very true and naked and lovely. You are utterly, utterly fabu.
maybe it's this post, or the fact that I'm delirious from exhaustion, or my dull headache, but a tear just ran down my cheek. I'll attribute it to this post. I realized I wanted my ex back this weekend. And it sucks!
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