Earlier this week I discovered TFLN. MISTAKE. Hours and hours of precious time sucked into the vortex of witty rejoinders RE college-level sexcapades/antics.

And as much as I love reading about this stuff, I’m so, SO glad I’ve never actually lived it. Sex, drugs, and passing out in the ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend’s poolhouse with a bottle of Jack in my hand and 6 hours I can’t remember over the sound of my hangover:  not my lifestyle, not my life. Ever. Even the times I did spend intoxicated and technically did enjoy [rehashing with friends] served as successful reminders as to who/what/where should not happen again.

Speaking of rehashing with friends, every time I am approached by someone new or the prospect of creating a new relationship, I instantly crave the companionship of my old friends and am just ready to “shady dip” on the fresh one. Jay wants to have dinner next week, and Bri wants to hunker down during the daytime for tea. I don’t know how to tell either of them that I like them much better as potentials than as actuals. Fictional characters over guys I can touch and hug and punch. Well, I do know HOW, I just don’t know if that’s the best long-term action I can come up with. It’s not rocket science; familiarity feels safer, even if I decided that what I had wasn’t what I really needed.

I think about Andy here and there still – mostly images of him sitting here on the couch, over there by the window. Recounting his inability to listen to words in a song, sitting forward with his long legs open and face set with humorous determination. The two-year anniversary of his death is rapidly approaching. I can barely believe a year has passed, let alone two.

Anyone who has had the benefit/misfortune of constant e-contact with me has seen this video. The first time I saw it last week it made my day, and every day since has been a highlight. It’s the little things!

Day Whatever

Nooooooooooooo.

The upstairs is alive with the pitter-patter of Uggs and winter boots. Somehow I tricked myself into believing I would be upstairs-neighbor-free until summer. Not so! It will be interesting to find out how much attention my brain will dedicate to him/her moving around doing living things.

What needs to happen is me moving to a 3rd floor apartment. Mmmm, I would love it! Another thing I would love: having 3rd floor money.

On the docket today: not staying in my apartment but staying long enough to clean it, chicken parmesan and coming up with better things to do with my time.

What I need is The Book. And by The Book I mean that wonderful, over-the-top page-turner that compels me to drop everything and read (we called that DEAR time, in school ::snort::). I broke my habit and my preference by greatly anticipating then immeeeediately reading this book by one of the few authors I actually look forward to. And now that its over, nothing matches up to the anticipation and awesomeness, and in combinational with the seasonal cold-weather blah all I really feel like doing is involving my tv in most of my at-home stuff.

It is a stupid issue that is a clearly first-world problem. But my preoccupation with reading is what keeps me from a preoccupation with electronic stuff. So right now, the electronic stuff is winwinwinning.

A while ago I created a profile on an online dating/social site – part boredom, part curiosity – and after a week disabled it. Then one of my friends came over and wanted to look at my profile so I spun it up. Now I can’t disable it for another week so I’m getting messages again. And again, first-world problems! It’s kind of fun; I do like finding people to talk to in a non-stressful environment – people who want to talk to ME, by choice – and this gives me the opportunity to pick and choose how involved I want to be.

But I also don’t want it to teach me that I can manage my in-person relationships in the same way. A function of a real-life relationship is taking the good with the bad, and I need work on that already!

Well, onward. The chicken ain’t gonna parmesan itself.

Day 8: 01:00 Is The Perfect Time To Muse About

The ebook v. physical book debate. I’d spoken with someone yesterday about Kindle fun, and again this evening with one of my friends, so I’ve been mulling over the hubbub once more. The first couple of times someone told me “I just love the feel of a book in my hands” I agreed, touching a nearby hardcover for reassurance. Now when someone utters these words I have to stop myself from dealing out an exaggerated eye-roll.

I’m sure that I’m saying this as a person who owns 200+ books and has had to move them 5+ times, knowing that a fair number of them I am unlikely to read[again], and have very certainly wasted my money on, and can barely be bothered to take them someplace resale-related. But keeping in mind I’m also saying this as an avid-reader, a true fan of the physical book, and recognize that what it really comes down to is personal preference as everyone has their reasons for choosing one (physical/ebook) over another.

Let’s step over to the realistic corner for a moment. In the realistic corner we can rationalize that considering the books you’ve read over a lifetime, there are a very small percentage of that whole you will consider “take to the grave” texts. Say you’re fleeing the country– no, better yet, say that it’s the literal world of Equilibrium/1984. Books are being burned left and right. The authorities are on their way to your home to set your shit on fire and you have a choice: grab your favs and risk corporal punishment death by shoving a select few into your hidey-hole, or be done with the lot of it and go outside with your (empty) hands out.

I’m looking at 1 of my shelves of a 100, and *maybe* 9 of those would make it into that hidey-hole. And of those 9, 3 of them are part of a series likely gathered into a handy omnibus somewhere else on the planet. The remaining 91 are books that I would totally read again if the mood struck me (which is why I have them), but if I came down to shedding a stack of literary pounds, the 91 would make up the weight.

Anyway, I suppose my initial reaction to the “feel of a book” comment pertains more to the notion of practicality. E-book carriers are convenient and a natural step in the evolution of the written word, and “writing them off” BECAUSE of a tactile preoccupation (if it really IS the feel of the book that floats your boat, and not the image or status that comes with holding one in your hand, which is not a bad thing so long as you admit it!) is just crazypants.

Yes, I said it. Crazypants. Write down.

Day 7: Clean Up

Success!

I was not a complete and total laze-ball today. I did a fair bit of pick up in the living room and even tackled the 6 layers of ridiculousness on my bedroom floor. How different the night will be without slamming my head/knee/ankles into something on my way to the can!

Round evening-time I decided to call the 800 number on the back of my gift card to see what could be done.

Sir: Hi, how can I help you?

Me: Yeah, so I got a gift card… well, as a gift. HA!

Sir: ::silence::

Me: Er, well, online it says I have a $10 balance, but when I went to two different stores I was told the card was inactive and never appeared to have carried a balance in the first place.

Sir: Hmmm… really?

Me: Yep.

Sir: ::silence::

Me: ::silence::

Sir: That’s really surprising. What’s the number? ::types in the number I give him:: Yeah, it says you have $10.

Me: … I know. So…?

Sir: … so…

Me: …SO WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO. Any suggestions?

Sir: I’m not quite sure why it’s not working…

Etc. etc.

In the end, I suggested (again *I*, as in me, the customer) that he send me a new one, and after agreeing, cautioned me against trying to use the card since it is now inactive – which I again stated would not be a problem, as it was not working in the first place – and told me to have a Happy New Year. Whew! Way too much effort expended on a) a gift and b) a gift under $10.

I neglected to mention that yesterday was failed attempt number 2, and the cashier gave me a free drink “because I said there was money on the card.” I wasn’t pushy about it – in fact, I had my debit card out. I felt weird about taking a free drink, but I wasn’t going to refuse! Pass out the free, Starbucks!

Day 6: All’s Well That Ends Without Being Too Fucked Up

Attention.

Hair.

Cats.

All these things await me when I descend CK’s steps and put the key I’ve managed to not lose yet into the door. My favorite cat utters a question as I approach. Maybe he’s saying “Is someone there?” or “Did you bring food?” and I usually answer with “Do not come outside this door or I will end you.” Followed up with a hug.

I’m glad that every once in a while I take care of the cats because every time I do I am reminded in great detail why I will never ever have a cat for myself. Let me first state that this is by no means an unpleasant task. Ever since the skinny one used his claws to climb my back I am paranoid as to his whereabouts in house, but feeding them is uncomplicated, and furry creatures are generally awesome and calming despite my mild allergies to them. Having a soft creature hanging out with you always makes the day better!

It’s more that checking in on them for 20 minutes at a time reminds me what it was like to have cats long-term, which I did not care for. Just like kids I guess; great because you get to give them back at the end of the day.

Its been an uneventful post-holiday week. CSI, games, shower, CSI, bed, CSI. It’s amazing that I’ve been able to distinguish one day from another, as similar as they have been.

Christmas was eventful as always. The Mexican mom and the Reverend mom both hosted me for dinner. Lots of food. Lots of discussions about significant others and their various names AND the creative ways in which to ask if one is a factor in your existence. “Do you have anyone special in your life?” asks the Reverend mom’s mom as she drives on the expressway. She’s spent most of the Christmas dinner chatting with the current lady loves of her grandsons, and I am so far away from what’s happening that it takes a Herculean effort to admit this is a reasonable question in light of her evening.

One of my sensitive “coworkers” gave me a Starbucks card for Christmas. When I went to use the card in store I was told there was nothing on it, had never carried anything on it. The look on the cashier’s face was adorable and priceless. “Did you get this as a GIFT?” “Yep! Merry Christmas.” Exits.

It was thoughtful of her, and probably not her fault that the card doesn’t work in person, but I’m annoyed that I have to spend time on making it work. And it’s just unfortunate that it reinforces my general perception of her as inconvenient, or causing inconveniency in my life. There is a direct correlation between a high rate of inconvenience and her participation in anything work related. I… am a jackass.