Life Among the Never-Winged

Once upon a time I was writing a book called, "Just Another Love Letter", about angels behaving badly. Now I just quietly ask myself each day, "What the hell am I doing?"

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Location: The Rocky Mountain Empire, United States

My friends always knew I was going to hell. My only hope is that God likes good jokes and bad redheads.

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  • Tuesday, May 02, 2006

    All You Need Is Love

    Now that they’re all in bed…

    …I can write. To you.

    I’m coming down from a fantastic weekend, one I didn’t expect to enjoy.

    I’ve been feeling a little Eleanor Rigbyish since Easter.

    Or maybe just isolated on a desert island, the desert being Colorado. Self-imposed isolation. It’s not like I can’t throw the boyos in the car and go somewhere. But there’s been...no where I’ve wanted to go. I’m just not a shopper, and going to a park alone with the boyos right now is a job for Wonder Woman, and she doesn’t live here.

    O’s been working long hours with no days off, and Easter as well as the repercussions after sort of drove home the point that I’m really not welcome here anymore.


    So, I’ve kind of holed up the past few weeks(yikes, is it weeks?). It didn’t help that the boyos had spirited away the nail clippers, and my nails were looking a bit end-days-Howard-Hughesy.


    (Hmmm. Looks like I haven’t been myself for a while.)


    Anyway, let’s skip over the pity party and get to the FUN party.

    O’s class reunion.

    I know what you’re thinking. Ugh. A chance for all the guys to flop their dicks out on the table and compare sizes, and all the chicks to size EVERYthing up.

    Add to that the fact that it wasn’t a high school reunion but a middle school reunion. Weird, huh?

    They had one last year which we attended. I knew one wife there, a friend of mine. She was going through some problems, so we ended up off in a corner of the bar talking instead of mingling. She and her husband opted out this year. Hearing that, I didn’t really want to go. Talk to people? Strangers? One of whom my husband was going to marry? Eleanor Rigby, anyone?

    But O begged me to come. He even called the babysitter himself.

    About thirty seconds after we got to the bar, O turned to me and said, “You're driving home.” So, in my funkish state, I felt like, ‘Oh thanks, you didn't want me to come to have fun, you just wanted a designated driver.’

    But thirty seconds after THAT, a woman, R., said something so foul and funny it just about had me on the floor, and thirty seconds after THAT, I said something so funny and foul it almost had her on the floor, and then we split a pack of cigarettes because my husband was too cheap to hand over $4.25 for the vending machine, and then R. and I bonded on a bathroom break, and then harassed (in a nice way) a pretty woman and her handsome date, and then I met R.’s husband, and he was funny, and then I met B., who, along with O was picked on in school (O was the fat kid, B. was the pip squeak) and B. loved me because I reminded him of his sister, and he thought O and I looked like soulmates from the minute we walked in the door, and B. is gay and short and kept hugging me, so if I closed my eyes it was like hugging Elijah Wood (shut up, Clowncar) and I met the woman O was going to marry, and she was a blast, and I would have married her too, and I met another woman who had me laughing as well, and and and...

    By the time I left I had the undying love of about five people, and I was madly in love with them, and it was exactly what I needed after the crappy treatment I received from my in-laws at Easter.

    There.

    Breath.

    And even though we were two hours late getting home, the babysitter said, “Call me the next time you need me.” Yay!

    ****

    P.S. I loved everybody’s response to the meme. Feel free to keep posting them; I get y’all’s comments by email. Heck, go back and comment on any posting, and I’ll see it. Nancy Dancehall sees all. Nancy Dancehall refers to herself in the third person. It’s time for Nancy Dancehall to haul her Nancy-ass to bed.

    5 people left me a love letter:

    Blogger Jonathon S.B. Tiercel wrote in a love letter...

    ND,

    Sounds like you had a great weekend. I am glad. Hope things are going well. Things are alright here, considering the circumstances. Drop me a line sometime...

    11:38 AM, May 02, 2006  
    Blogger Lisa wrote in a love letter...

    This wins "favorite post of the day" award, hands down. hands all over the place, in fact.

    So why aren't you welcome there?? What did I miss? That sounds drastic and sad...

    Also, I have a paper on Fuck-enstein to write, so, ya know. I'll be around a lot for the next few hours. Hours. shit...I guess I better git ta writin'.

    I'm not giving up my Pearl Necklace--I mean Jam--hopes just yet. Let's keep our little finners crossed, shall we? (what the hell happened to my ability to speak/write like a normal person???)

    1:31 PM, May 02, 2006  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    JT: Is your email the same or do you have a Baghdad email?
    Looks like I'll be dining with your wife on Thursday...I can't wait!

    Lisa: Thankee! I haven't been blogging my in-law familial woes, partly because they make for dreary reading (and writing) and partly for O's privacy. But if you want a taste of dirt, check out my 11/26 and 12/01 posts. Let's just say, I seem to be the root of all evil.

    Good luck with the paper. That's what sucks about college -- they turn a perfectly good corpse story into a corpse.

    Lil finners crossed for sharing that Pearl Neck...I mean Jam...concert with you!

    5:57 PM, May 02, 2006  
    Blogger Jonathon S.B. Tiercel wrote in a love letter...

    ND, same mail goes...no change. Hope dinner with LBD/MC was good. Give O and the boyos my best.

    10:37 PM, May 02, 2006  
    Blogger amusing wrote in a love letter...

    Reunions. Shudder. Thought glad you had a blast and you shook off the blahs!

    8:26 PM, May 03, 2006  

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