Saturday morning I woke a little late. Rubbed my eyes and lolled in bed trying to convince myself that I should go to my 9:15 workout. Finally, when I had about five minutes left to get ready, I shot out of bed like a rocket and went into spaz mode to make it to class. How I made it with five minutes to spare, I’ll never know.
Once there, however, I slipped right back into sleepy mode and half-assed my way through the workout. There was a sub, and the music was too slow, I was crampy, and they’d blacked out the windows that normally stream rays of happy sunshine onto the hardwoods. Ugh. It was a struggle, but I made it through.
When I got back to my car, I noticed that my dad had called me from his mobile phone. I called him back to find out that he was in town. At the airport, actually. He had been trying to get home from Baltimore, and had gotten stuck in Atlanta and had to spend the night there. So he was almost home and tired and hungry, and he wanted to know if I’d eaten breakfast yet.
We met at one of my favorite breakfast spots and ate outside and chattered away. It was a really nice surprise. I loves me some daddy-o!
Went home and vegged. Not sure what happened during this time slot. I think there was some kind of time warp because I just remembered that I was feeling in a bit of a lonely funk, and then all of a sudden it was time to get ready for Trish’s 30th B-Day party.
The party was okay, considering I’d sunk into a bluesy mood at that point. I didn’t spiff myself up because we were meeting at this really casual bar, and I knew that Trish was just in the mood to party herself silly. I didn’t think that we’d be moving to another bar or anything. But she said she wanted to go dancing when I got there. I had my glasses, torn jeans, and floppy sandals on! I couldn’t go dancing like that!
Luckily, there was someone else there who was feeling the same way. Shelly was actually on her way to another party and had just stopped by to wish Trish a happy 30th. She told me how great her party was going to be and that there would be lots and lots of successful single guys there and that I should go with her.
Not too much arm-twisting was needed on Shelly’s part. I felt a little guilty sneaking out of Trish’s party. She really wanted me to go dancing. But I was still feelin’ funky and bluesy and there’s no way I hang at that point. She wanted to party like a just-turning-30 rockstar. I can’t blame her I just couldn’t do it with her!
Maybe I made a mistake. Shelly’s party was well .stuffy. It was in a really ritzy neighborhood, and there were fancy cars, fancy clothes, and beautiful people everywhere. Now, I can usually hold my own with beautiful people but it was just not to be on Saturday night. I so did not want to be there. And I was so not fitting in that night. But I tried anyway.
Shelly was talking to a group of guys and I came over and started talking to some soon-to-be-divorced-looking-to-get-into-someone’s-pants guy who made me want to spew, so I turned to the guy who Shelly was talking with. They were having some kind of conversation about the trials and tribulations of all of his travels. So I chimed in and asked him what he does .
You’d think I’d shot his dog.
He started in on me for being so rude as to have the gall to ask him what he does! And how I just barged in on the conversation and hadn’t my parents ever taught me manners and what business is it of mine what he does and who did I think I was and on and on and on and on it went .
What the?? You talkin’ to moi?!
Shelly just stood there with her mouth wide open, shocked at this ripping of my new asshole.
I, in turn, thought for a moment about all of the shit I could have slung right back in his direction and the nasty fight that could have ensued. But I realized that I was just too damn weary to fight. And this was not my crowd. And that anything nasty (or even witty) that I could possibly say to this jerk would probably come out sounding wrong anyway.
So instead, I apologized for offending him and turned to Shelly and thanked her for inviting me to the party and walked back through the house, thanking the hostess as I walked out the door.
Whatever. I drove home scratching my head. I climbed into bed and wrapped myself up in a cloud and didn’t come up for air until morning.
Aah. Sunday morning. A new day. Another fresh new start.
But that cloud of loneliness and blah just seemed to linger. Like fog or something. And nothing I did seemed to shake it.
I went for a nice, long walk to get the paper and some cereal. I love walking through my neighborhood to the corner grocery store. I even thought for a moment about walking over to the church where I used to go (also in my neighborhood), just to see if it could pull me a little further out of this dismal mood.
As much as a decent sermon can be very inspirational to me, church sometimes (okay, a lot of times) gets me down. I’m not even sure why the thought struck me other than the fact that there were a lot of pre-church shufflings going on throughout the neighborhood while I was on my walk.
And I guess going to church would be a little more social than sitting alone contemplating my bellybutton.
Of course, I decided to go home and do the bellybutton thing.
After that, I actually went out and did something productive! I bought a new photo-quality printer so that I could make cool, frame-able prints of all the fun things I’ve been snapping with my digital camera. Okay. I must admit. It cheered me up for a little while.
And then Hy called just to say hello. Hm! Things looking brighter by the minute! Hy is darling. I just wish he didn’t live so far away. So much I want to say about him, but I think I’ll wait until the next time we see each other. I don’t want to get ahead of myself.
So I hooked up the printer, and then got online. And immediately started feeling lonely and bluesy again.
Well, who should pop on but LDL (ex long-distance-love)! And he must’ve caught me at just the right moment because we started IM-ing, and ended up talking for an hour on the phone.
And not only did that leave me still lonely and bluesy, but add confusion to the mix. I might be going to see him over the 4th of July (what the hell?!).
Alrightee! Why don’t we just cap Sunday night off good and well, shall we???
I ended up sending an e-mail to Ethan!!
And you know the rest of the story: I climbed into bed and wrapped myself up in a cloud and didn’t come up for air until morning.
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