Saturday, March 20, 2004
Nobody's perfect. I was having fun last night at the bar. I was on, the right clothes, the right attitude. I wore this tight 1970s black polyester shirt with the widest lapels. The hot leather man eyed me as did the scruffy blond boy, I was on, that's for sure.
Chris said let's sit down and chat. And everything kinda crumbled after that because it turns out that he knows the Ex fairly well, although how never became clear, and there's one thing that is very clear to me- it is better not to see or talk about Him. After a year and a half it still feels like a dirty knife being stuck in me and twisted, leaving behind a hollow, disenchanted feeling.
I'm not perfect, even with my pretty shirt and too-tight jeans. I sometimes feel a little depressed because I'm lonely. Sometimes I wish the phone would ring a little more often, at moments like that I can be surprisingly pleasant to telemarketers. I miss cooking meals for two, the silliness, the driving someplace together. It's sad to miss the imperfection of that relationship, but that's the way it is, that's the way I feel. I'm hoping that someday I will meet another person to be best friends with and now that I have only three cats and new curtains I'm guessing I look a little less like a ghetto welfare mommy. Maybe if I lose a few pounds, maybe if I act butch-er, maybe if I cut the weeds, maybe that's a bunch of bullcrap but self improvement helps according to Dr. Phil and Dr. Laura and Oprah but not Martha. But who knows what will happen on Homer's World, the writers haven't let on and I missed the last few moments where they showed the upcoming scenes. Damn, I wish I had TiVo.
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Chris said let's sit down and chat. And everything kinda crumbled after that because it turns out that he knows the Ex fairly well, although how never became clear, and there's one thing that is very clear to me- it is better not to see or talk about Him. After a year and a half it still feels like a dirty knife being stuck in me and twisted, leaving behind a hollow, disenchanted feeling.
I'm not perfect, even with my pretty shirt and too-tight jeans. I sometimes feel a little depressed because I'm lonely. Sometimes I wish the phone would ring a little more often, at moments like that I can be surprisingly pleasant to telemarketers. I miss cooking meals for two, the silliness, the driving someplace together. It's sad to miss the imperfection of that relationship, but that's the way it is, that's the way I feel. I'm hoping that someday I will meet another person to be best friends with and now that I have only three cats and new curtains I'm guessing I look a little less like a ghetto welfare mommy. Maybe if I lose a few pounds, maybe if I act butch-er, maybe if I cut the weeds, maybe that's a bunch of bullcrap but self improvement helps according to Dr. Phil and Dr. Laura and Oprah but not Martha. But who knows what will happen on Homer's World, the writers haven't let on and I missed the last few moments where they showed the upcoming scenes. Damn, I wish I had TiVo.
