Monday, April 25, 2011

Drunk Indian Boyfriends And Dyngus Day: It's Exactly As Absurd As It Sounds

Yes, he's from Wisconsin, but still. He's raised by people who go to Temple and don't eat cows, and aside from that the man is a million times more all American that an apple pie on a Michigan window sill: He is not Polish.

And he is going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow and as absolutely adorable as his late night call was, I think it's going to serve him right.

Dyngus Day... psh.

Monday, April 18, 2011

My Two Sweeties

I feel terrible for my 6 year old daughter. I've told people for years that she's very socially elegant, that thank God she gets her fathers familys charm (but with none of the robustfully disingenuous smarminess), and none of my awkward squeaky babbling or lack of filter. Today however, I watched my clever and genuine little sweetie meet my other sweetie (my bearded sarcastic jaded sweetie) for the second time, balance a crayon on her head, make some funny noises, throw up a false laugh over it and after a few more minutes of awkwardness, isolate herself beneath a box and yell goodbye from there when my other sweetie was on his way out the door.

And it must not be an exact science for her to process any more than it is for me to, here is this man who she'd never heard of before 4 months ago suddenly showing up with boxes to let mommy store things, cheese flavored like chicken noodle soup, a full beard and a full grown dog he calls a puppy... he's got a giant car and left recycled crayons in little square shapes for her over spring break: He seems a little too good. And where in the fuck did this guy come from, anyway?

And oh, honey, I know the feeling.

But in the end, he was stopping in without the dog and she was ok with it. And if she starts freaking out and acting a little bizarrely, I suppose that's much better than her being unhappy with the situation: Nervous and afraid are very different things, and it could totally go the other direction. And it doesn't, and my two sweeties, while both a little nervous about it, can be in the same room together for small periods of time if need be without anyone totally melting down about it.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Two Toilets

In the 24 hours since my 6 year old has been home, the following have been done:

-A toast to two toilets. Thanks for playing, friends from film class.
-A circus
-Cleaning up the scraped knee from the circus (note to self: Anything that starts with "And now for the famous mimes slide trick" is no longer allowed).
-Cleaning of bed previously refused to be used for new big girl
-Waking up at 5:30 am to find new big girl in my bed with her foot in my ear saying "It's not your bed, it's our bed... right?"
-Explained why we don't tell people they are boring
-Explained why we don't tell people that I said they are boring.
-Explained (see lied) to boring person about why my 6 year old may have thought I called them boring.

Life as I know it has resumed... and I'm over the moon for every boring moment of it. Best 24 hours since the last 24 hours after a long visit, totally.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

"Oh, I'm Just Sleeping With the Bassist"

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I hate dating guys in bands. I have always hated dating guys in bands. For most of my dating life, however, I have totally been involved with a guy in the band, and almost always without fail that guy has been a bassist.

And I remember vividly the endless shows of my last serious boyfriend, technically I could probably call him my husband by common law in Indiana if not for that tiny little breakup (during which I skipped town and came home pregnant: It's a wonder we never sealed the deal, yes?): And I remember vividly the first show he asked me to, being at the wing place next door to the coffee shop they frequently played, downing beers with some new anchor-woman from our local news station (a friend of my boyfriends band-mate and best friend). We were guzzling quickly while I was explaining in needless detail exactly why I hate Natale Merchant (really I did-- really, I do). I thought we were drinking so fast for obvious thrills and she thought because we needed to hurry to catch the band. She asked if I was coming, and I said "No, I'm just sleeping with the bassist" and got incredibly drunk alone while my boyfriend catered to teenagers who didn't ask much of a Pixies cover. For months I did this, maybe even a year, and one day to my secret delight my boyfriend came home to tell me that the band was breaking up.

And that's all fine and good, and we were happy for a few years before he got critical and violent and I in turn got drunk and then got in bed with other people... but before all of that I was a good girlfriend. I showed up to watch him soak in the worship of these barely teenage (if even) fans, and to see him wildly happy. A tall nerdy kid with coke bottle thick glasses, a hipster before there where hipsters (when it was just being a geek) feel important and admired and handsome and talented-- a little less Woody Allen and a little more Elvis Costello. And when the tribute fan page popped up as a suggestion for me on facebook tonight I absolutely sighed with relief... there were pictures I had taken, but none that I was in-- and I haven't dated a man in a band or had to go to a coffee shop for any reason other than coffee for a long long long time.

After that immediate wave had passed however, I inched my mouse over to the "like" tab and clicked. It was a time in my life. I was 21, pretty drunk, very pretty, and too cool to be into the band from which I was sleeping with the bassist...

...and secretly, at the time I didn't ask a lot of a Pixies cover either.

*(Side Note: My ex boyfriend is still one of my best friends, and despite hipster not being hip yet at the time, was totally handsome even as a Woody Allen type. I'll say a lot of things about him under my breath, but never that he wasn't attractive in his way. Black hair, black framed glasses, knew mean was totally funny, and a music and pop culture nerd in every way.)
**(Separate Side Note: The above side note is a disclaimer for in case of reading by either my ex boyfriend, or my current boyfriend, who is just my type... Black hair, black framed glasses, knows mean is totally funny, and a music and pop culture nerd in every way. And makes me feel warmer and fuzzier than any ex boyfriend possibly could. AND who isn't in a band, which more than triples his sexy factor in my eyes)

Friday, April 1, 2011

Other Peoples Problems

I can be so self absorbed so often, am so self absorbed so often... but today it's raining and I'm not taking it as some personal lash out from the universe to me.

In a rare moment of too much perspective, I can think of nothing in the world but someone else and their universal circumstances, and there's nothing but love and warm wishes for them today.