Tell me something I don’t know!

Um, duh you’re wonderful. And I cannot wait to see your beautiful face and hear your charming New England accent in just a few short weeks!! Let’s get dolled up and drink cocktails with umbrellas in them, please?

Forgive my blogging hiatus. It’s been an eventful couple of months. The Jake visit came and went and was only marginally successful. There’s no romantic reconciliation in our future. There’s not even a good story from the trip. But I must admit that I do feel better about the whole situation and I think we understand one another more than we ever have – which really isn’t saying much, I suppose. The man is an impossible puzzle to me but I guess now I’ll stop trying. Oh, and BTW, he failed to recognize Valentine’s Day at all. Or to comment on my amazing post-breakup body that I’ve been working my A$$ off on for the last year. And I’m sorry, but I look fabulous. The whole thing had such potential but was an enormous letdown.

Not long after that trip my grandmother passed away. My mom’s mom who was, up until quite recently, a spritely little 90 pound 90-year-old who made getting old look pretty awesome. She went downhill quickly which was a mixed blessing. I wrote a long piece about her that I never posted but still read while both laughing and crying. When my cousins and I were looking through her cedar chest we found a beautiful hand-crocheted baby blanket (for which she’s famous) with a card that said “For Ginger’s Baby” in her delicate cursive handwriting.

My grandmother must’ve immediately ascended into heaven where she was seated at the right hand of the Father, becoming my guardian angel because just a few shorts weeks after her death my arch nemesis CCW resigned! She’s GONE! It was the most bizarre situation and to be quite honest I’m a bit worried about her mental health, but she was such a drain on my company and my morale that I will simply pray for her health and safety while thanking the good Lord (and sweet Granny!) for removing her from my life.

Reading back through this it seems a Debbie Downer post and it kind of is, but spring is around the corner and good things are in store. The weather is warming up, work is slowing down, and a fourth season of Arrested Development is forthcoming. Something wonderful is going to happen, I can feel it! Until then, tell me some tales of your glamorous West Coast escapades or at least some online dating deets?

I. Am. Wonderful.

I am.  I just have trouble admitting it or allowing myself to believe it.  Especially when it comes to relationships.  This morning on this happy daylight savings Sunday, I logged into OKCupid to check on an email I received.  After dealing with that I started deleting a bunch of emails that were from people I just wasn’t ever going to correspond with.  Like the 53 year old man who emailed me last week.  Or the dude who isn’t going to kill my spiders and is LOL’ing about it.  Those and a bunch of others were just taking up space and why have the clutter?

As I deleted more and more, my list of emails shrank to which my old emails with Justin (80’s dream man) rose above the fold.  At that moment, my heart literally hurt.  Not because he was in my face.  No, because he changed his profile picture to this unbelievably good photo that we had from MY company xmas party.  My company hires a few different photographers and his one guy takes amazing black and whites, it makes every single person look unbelievably beautiful or handsome.  Justin cut me out and there it was, the best photo he’s ever had in his life as his profile picture and it was a photo that he only had because of me.  It hurt for a few reasons.

For one thing, I feel like because it was from “us”, it’s kind of off limits.  Like hey, that was a special night for us.  We looked incredible!  I wore sparkles, he wore a suit.  We were the cat’s meow.

For two, did I mention how dashing and handsome he looks in this photo?  It’s magazine worthy.  We joked that these photos would be our xmas cards for the next 10 years.  And now it’s his profile pic on a dating site which means his response rate from the other girls on this site is going to skyrocket.  It’s 100 times better than any other photo he has in his profile.  So in my head that translates into “he will most definitely find an amazing woman [read: more amazing than me] and I will surely never have another shot”

Back in the saddle

Well we both survived Valentine’s Day.  I think.  I’m eagerly awaiting a lengthy and detailed update about your weekend with Jake! But enough about you…

I have been more accepting that my 80’s dream man maybe wasn’t exactly my dream man.  I can point to things that we were not totally aligned on, but we were aligned enough damnit.  It’s more just completely exhausting and daunting to think about starting over again.  And if we were so well matched yet not quite right, holy crap, will I really find someone.  Don’t get me wrong, finding my rock star gave me confidence that perhaps there are guys in CA that I can relate to.

But the other part of me is also becoming accepting that maybe I’m just supposed to be single.  To be honest, do I have time for a guy?  Ever since I got dumped I’ve been taking much better care of myself (look at that silver lining, it’s so shiny and pretty!), I’ve been going to hot yoga and the gym, like every day.  Seriously.  Between work, working out and going to bed before 10, there’s barely any time left in between for anything else, let alone getting to know someone.  I always thought growing up that I would get married and have kids by the time I was 28 because that’s what you did, right?  As a woman, you also became a teacher or nurse, right?  This is one of the first times that I can recall actually being OK with maybe not getting married and having kids.  Maybe I should just have cats?

Breakup vs. Breakdown

Dearest Suze – I think my email to you yesterday pretty much summed up my state of mind, so why reinvent the wheel?

Also, flashback to last week – I found CCW ASLEEP IN HER OFFICE. No lie ASLEEP. As in, SLEEPING. At first I thought she was dead (I am pretty sure she has some kind of substance abuse issue) and I freaked out. But no, alive and well, just taking a little snoozie-snooze.

Back to more recent events, last night after you and I had that email exchange, I picked a huge email fight with Jake, told him that I wasn’t coming and that the whole thing was stupid and pointless. Then this morning I went to church for Ash Wednesday service and wept the whole time. I’m sure my fellow Christians thought I was just moved by the service, which I was, but I was actually having a mental breakdown in the house of the Lord.

Following my come to Jesus, Jake and I were in touch this morning and, at least as of now, I’m going.

Oh, and also, one of my coworkers brought in the Girl Scout cookies I bought from her daughter. I’m having a mental breakdown on a holy day and there are 3 boxes of Girl Scout cookies sitting on my desk. There is also a case of wine in my office leftover from a recent event. THIS WILL NOT END WELL.

 

Google is a real b*tch

Sorry she keeps reminding you of your recent rejection. But look at it this way: those romantic, in-a-relationship targeted ads may still be coming your way because Google knows something you don’t? And let’s face it, Google knows everything.

Still, I’m really sorry about you and your 80s beau. But look at you speeding right through those stages of grief – you’re exponentially so much smarter than the average person, you’re even advanced in your grieving! I bet by the time Valentine’s Day comes around, you’ll be so over your 80s BF that you’ll be out on a cheesy, rose petals and overpriced champagne date with someone even better. Mark my words. But don’t wear a red dress on V-day. Gross.

Umm…so speaking of Valentine’s Day, have I mentioned what I’m doing that day? Yeah…so…I’m… goingtovisitJakeinNewEngland. WHAT!?!?!

I know, I know. What the hell, where did this come from?! Long, sordid, kind of romantic but at times pathetic story short, he called me over the holidays and more or less confessed his undying love for me. Well, at least as much as possible for him, whom we can all agree is emotionally stunted. He said his life was better with me in it and he just had to see me. He offered to fly south, or to take us on a fabulous winter vacay, but I opted for visiting him. I want to see his new life.

I can’t even begin to get into the cyclone on conflicting emotions that this has brought about, even though I guess I did by writing this. But there’s far too much for a single blog post. I suppose I’ll just have to save it for my bestselling novel. In my rare moments of total clarity, I just know I have to see him. Maybe I’ll see him and I’ll wonder why the hell I pined away for this man for a year. Maybe he’ll break my heart all over again. Or maybe, just maybe, we’ll fix what was broken and move forward together happily.

Maybe yours and my distant but parallel lives mean that your relationship with 80s beau is suspended, but not actually over for good? In the meantime, push him out of your thoughts as much as possible and focus on taking care of yourself, like you’d care for a good friend who was going through the same situation. Sometimes we’re much nicer to our friends than we are to ourselves. If all else fails, use Liz Taylor’s (God rest her soul) tough love: “Put on some lipstick, pour yourself a drink and pull yourself together.” I love you Friend!!

Ya know what would be great?

If every other email wasn’t some Valentine’s inspired sale or deal like romantic getaways for two, or Valentine’s dinner reservations or couples massages.  Google is pretty smart, so why doesn’t gmail know that I broke up with my beau and therefore filter these hideous emails into spam? Maybe I haven’t emailed enough about it or searched things on the Internet enough.  Um hello, google.  Did I not search the 7 stages of grief just two days ago?  And I found out that there are only 5 stages of grieving a relationship, which was a huge relief.

As I reviewed the stages:

1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance

Are you for real?  I’m still in denial that this is a permanent breakup, do I really need to go through all of these still?  I’m pretty sure depression set in for precisely 4 days post-breakup.  So does that mean I skipped anger and bargaining?  Uh. No.  Because last night I suddenly hit the anger phase.  I have on idea what clicked, but I was thinking about him and us and suddenly the idea that this WAS permanent seemed to creep in my head and suddenly I was pissed.  How dare he dump ME?!  I am awesome!  He is never going to get anyone even close to as awesome as me again!  So there!

I wanted to give him a piece of my mind, but of course I didn’t, and retreated back into denial. Phew!  All I have to say is he better not be going on dates with cute or smart girls, damnit.

We are the champions

Like everything else from the 80’s – all good things must come to an end.  I guess they don’t have to come to an end, but they do.  And thus, my 80’s dream man and I are no longer.  I can’t even begin to describe it and my silly notions about how many adorable things we had in common, and how when we kissed it was like our lips were literally created for one another, because that ship sailed unexpectedly and I am still standing on the dock.

Thankfully, I’m still fairly emotionally unavailable so that’s a plus in not thinking about it / getting over it.

But also, thankfully you must have tipped off our sweet friend (ok, your sweet ex) because he texted me today playing dumb about the whole situation until he provoked the fact that I am now single out of me.  To which he responded that my 80’s dream man just didn’t deserve me.  That was very precious.