That I Would Be Good by Alanis Morrisette
that I would be good even if I did nothing
that I would be good even if I got the thumbs down
that I would be good if I got and stayed sick
that I would be good even if I gained ten pounds
that I would be fine even if I went bankrupt
that I would be good if I lost my hair and my youth
that I would be great if I was no longer queen
that I would be grand if I was not all knowing
that I would be loved even when I numb myself
that I would be good even when I am overwhelmed
that I would be loved even when I was fuming
that I would be good even if I was clingy
that I would be good even if I lost sanity
that I would be good
whether with or without you
I just got home from my part-time job and damn it, I am going to savor my special day as it winds down.
There are 29 minutes left in my birthday.
I love birthdays. I don’t mind getting older because it means that I’m alive and if I’m alive, I have things to be thankful for.
Today, I’m most thankful for my friends.
In my previous life as a desperately unhappy married woman, I didn’t have too many friends. I was too miserable, too afraid to let another person in. Funny how a major depressive spell can put an end to that. When I stopped acting like everything was all right, my life became better. I’ve learned how to open up and to trust more over the past year. I’m even starting to see myself, sometimes, the way that my friends do.
Because my entire family is in another state, I had to start over when I moved here seven years ago. Really, my only place to make friends was at work … and it’s turned out really well. My co-workers are great … and I’d say 90% of the time, work doesn’t interfere with ther friendships. I was overwhelmed this morning when I got to my desk and had four birthday cards and presents! Other co-workers called to wish me happy birthday. Another sent me probably the funniest card I’ve ever received. It was a good day.
As I sit here thinking about all of the blessings in my life, I can feel the tears welling in my eyes. I never thought I would be so content, sitting in my one-bedroom apartment with my two cats.
To borrow Sally Field’s much-mocked Oscar-acceptance speech, “I like me! I really do!”
Nineteen minutes left.
It’s taken me 31 years but I finally believe I’m special. This year is going to be different. I’m not accepting inauthentic people or behaviors in my life. That starts with MJCF, who totally blew my birthday off. Miss Monique is going to let his loser ass know that there is competition for my affections … and MJCF is losing by a long shot.
So my date was Tuesday night. This morning (Thursday) he e-mailed me and said, among other things, “I wanted to tell you again how much fun I had the other night.” I e-mailed back and told him that I was glad he had a good time and I did too. So tonight I was driving home from running erands and … HE CALLED! It was a brief conversation, maybe 10 minutes, but he said he wanted to call me before he went out of town for the weekend.
Damn.
You know, he is the first guy I’ve dated during this, my first year of being single again, to ask me out again at the end of the first date. I’d say he’s also the first to initiate contact again after the first date. Usually it’s me wondering if I should let them know I had a good time, etc., etc. … which means I also wonder if we’re going out again out of interest or convenience.
This actually sounds promising. Wow. Wow. Wow.
More e-mails from MJCF today … all day long. Nothing of substance was discussed, no plans were made. What I previously would have seen as flirtation just seemed immature.
It is completely ridiculous to live 15 minutes apart, e-mail/chat basically daily yet not spend any time together. My friend called MJCF the “poster child for fear of commitment,” and he’s right. He’s a grown man who would rather spend time with his TV than a woman, or at least me. To paraphrase a scene in “Fever Pitch,” Jimmy Fallon is lamenting the amount of time he’s put into his “relationship” with the Red Sox. A smart little kid said, “But have the Sox ever loved you back?”
I just need to let this thing end. No more e-mails. No more hours-long chat sessions. Even if he does defy my expectations and remember my birthday, it doesn’t matter — because he’d be using material goods to convey his emotions. I’ve been through that before and I ended up with a house full of shit I didn’t want and couldn’t afford, and I still had a hole in my heart.
I want a man who is present. A man who may be afraid to tell me how he feels but takes the chance anyway. A man who can make and honor a date with me more than two hours in advance.
MJCF isn’t that man.
But say, with my help and encouragement, he became that man. We’d probably still freakin’ break-up and all I would have done was wasted time making him into a good boyfriend for another woman.
Screw that.
Will I miss his adorable smile, those dimples, his sense of humor? Sure. Will I miss his flakiness, inability to commit or over-reliance on his parents? No way.
I know, I’ve sung this tune more times than I care to remember … one of these times it will end for good.
And I really wasn’t too excited. I didn’t seriously consider blowing him off, but I had a major case of nerves and the thought of sitting at home, on my comfy couch, was pretty appealing. But I went home after work, changed into a sassy red sweater and my favorite dark “date” jeans and I was feeling much better. We met at a Mexican restaurant where they have really good margaritas. I was early and I think the waiters felt protective of me; they knew I was meeting someone and kept circling. It was like they were ready to make me feel better if he didn’t show up. It was kind of cute.
I saw him in the parking lot, well, who I assumed he was. He was wearing a suit, having come from work, and I thought, wow. He’s tall, looks like the former athlete he is and has a really attractive face. We talked for about two hours, a very easy conversation, aided probably by my one margarita and his two, but hell, it was a first date.
I was pleasantly surprised that he’s been in a few long-term relationships; the last one he was in lasted for 3 1/2 years and ended seven months ago. Before that, he dated a woman for five years.
After dinner he walked me to my car and asked me what “my thoughts” were. I confidently said, “I’d like to see you again,” kind of surprising myself (I remember thinking, hmmm, I have to tell my therapist about this!). I think his response was “Excellent!” but in a non-surferish way lol. Unfortunately, the date will have to wait until the weekend after next …
To add to the mix, MJCF e-mailed me this morning to ask me out to dinner/movie. I really don’t know when I’ll see him again, as the rest of this week seems out, he’ll be gone this weekend, and then I start my part-time job which will consume my weekdays for the next month. It’s already been two weeks since we saw each other, and that was for lunch; beyond that it’s been five weeks since we spent any measurable amount of time together. At this point, we’re little more than pen-pals. This guy tonight was able to commit to a date 10 days aways yet MJCF can’t commit to tomorrow. As much as I like MJCF and as much time as I’ve invested in our relationship, there’s no point in continuing on with him if he isn’t willing to make room in his life for me.
I have just read the best news of the month: Sephora is opening a store where I live — and this store is opening ON MY BIRTHDAY!
My love for Sephora is far-reaching and long-lasting. I have been to Sephoras in Las Vegas, New York City, California, Michigan, Florida and North Carolina. I receive their catalog. I order online.
A few of my favorites:
MJCF is boring me.
We e-mailed throughout the work day on Thursday and Friday, but I haven’t seen him in over a week and no plans have been made.
I have a date with someone else on Tuesday. I wanted to tell MJCF but my friend stopped me. I know, all it would have done was push MJCF away, but hell, we haven’t slept together in over a month. I’d be a lot less cranky if I was gettin’ some.
Perhaps it’s not accurate to say that MJCF is boring me. Frustrated is a better word to use. He’s not paying attention to me like I want him to and it scares me, makes me think he’s not interested. But so what? How much longer am I going to put up with him and his indecision?
I ordered his new double CD set (triple, if you count the DVD). It’s a greatest hits collection with a few new songs, one of which, “Oh Be Joyful” has my new favorite lyric:
“Oh be joyful because that shit spreads.”
That, my friends, is genius. Pure, unadulterated, f-ing genius.
| the Wit(71% dark, 38% spontaneous, 31% vulgar) |
your humor style:
CLEAN COMPLEX DARK
You like things edgy, subtle, and smart. I guess that means you’re probably an intellectual, but don’t take that to mean pretentious. You realize ‘dumb’ can be witty–after all isn’t that the Simpsons’ philosophy?–but rudeness for its own sake, ‘gross-out’ humor and most other things found in a fraternity leave you totally flat.
I guess you just have a more cerebral approach than most. You have the perfect mindset for a joke writer or staff writer.
Your sense of humor takes the most thought to appreciate, but it’s also the best, in my opinion.
If it’s Monday, it must be cheesy pop (not to be confused with cheesy poofs) night. This is what I’ve been listening to:
1. “Nobody Wants to Be Lonely” by Ricky Martin and Xtina
2. “Crush” by Mandy Moore
3. “You Should Let Me Love You” by Mario
4. “A Murder of One (live)” by Counting Crows
5. “Gray Sky Morning” by Vertical Horizon
So MJCF is acting weird, and I have a new prospect in the pipeline. First, potential new guy #1. He’s my age, but has a PhD and is a professor (at an accredited university, although one I wouldn’t apply to for grad school lol). His e-mails have been long, but somewhat serious — I can’t deal with someone who doesn’t have a sense of humor. He doesn’t seem to just be interested in an online “thing,” which is good. I may give him a call …
MJCF keeps complaining that he’s “burned out.” Well, freakin’ do something about it. If you can’t change your work environment, then how about eating better? Exercising? Not going out three or four times a week? Basing your mood on something other than the score of a freakin’ football game? I was going through my archive, and noted that it’s been five weeks since we last had a “date,” 3 1/2 weeks since we last hooked up and nearly a week since we’ve seen each other. I should call his lazy, confused ass out on saying that he considers us to be “dating.”
I don’t get it. I just don’t.
WTF, jackass?
*Lyric from “Gray Sky Morning.” I think the bald guy’s hot.
|
