kiwifruit's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Afterglow Monday is really like a cruel joke. I�m not laughing. It�s not even remotely funny. Okay, but it�s 6pm and the day is almost over. Another hour and I�ll be running in the park with The Italian. And I had an incredible weekend which I can just play over and over again in my head as I stare blankly at my computer screen and try and eke out my last dying breath of work here at the dotcomedy. Yes, Friday is my last day (unofficially) because there is that whole freelance thing, (which is really just another form of thankless slavery). But hey, who�s complaining? Well, me. Tired. I was supposed to meet The Feet tonight for a drink after he was done having his head shrunk. Should I be offended that he only wants to see me after his shrink sessions? Any-hoo, we�ve had this �NOT kissing� meeting scheduled for weeks now and I keep bagging out. Probably because the last �NOT kissing� meeting ended with me (surprise!) kissing him! Now we all know that I cannot kiss him because I�m in �luff� with The Italian. Luff being strikingly similar to love only the �lite� version. As in, he hasn�t said it yet, so I won�t admit it, and besides, I�m not really sure cuz last time the whole love thing was such a mess and God forbid that ever happens again! And frankly, I�ve never been very good at doing the �smart� thing in relationships (unless you call the uncanny ability to make every failure you fear in your head a self-fulfilling prophecy). There is the very real possibility that after a drink, hooking up with The Feet won�t seem like such a bad idea. I mean really, what harm can snogging a guy whom you�ve known for fifteen years (give or take), really do? Course I know the answer to this question � lots. Which is exactly why I keep bagging out. But still, I can�t help but fantasize that The Feet will finally realize (after fifteen years and about that many dates) that I am the woman for him. Course, if he were to do that I wouldn�t know what the hell to do. I�d probably run away in terror and that would be the end of it. You see, the beauty of our relationship is that neither of us will ever get what we want. This works really well; we can act all mopey and unrequited (which I�m sure everyone knows is loads of fun). We can have running fantasies and fears about one another in which I don�t think I�m smart enough and he doesn�t think he�s pretty enough. And then we get to bitch to each other about our current relationships in which our significant other is, of course, not as wonderful as present company. Then we get to kiss (a lot) and NOT sleep together (in the biblical sense that is, I�ve slept in his bed plenty). Because when you�ve had an ongoing thing of sorts with someone since you were sixteen and you are now thirty, the sex would have to be really fecking stellar to make up for all that waiting. Any-hoo, I rescheduled our drinks for next Monday since I should have loads of free time next week and he will have just had his head shrunk. Tuesday. Okay, last night The Italian just warmed the cockles of my heart (if I had cockles that is). After the gym I went to his house and he had prepped the perfect little dinner (this may be the only man ever who fully understands how I eat). He�d gotten a little bit of everything (tomato and mozzarella salad, grilled veggies, sliced pepper turkey, Dijon mustard, assorted olives and a small Caesar salad). Then he had me sit down and relax while he arranged it all and served me. And, to top it all off he got me a weeks supply of my favorite Lite n� Fit yogurt in my favorite flavors so that I�d have something to grab for breakfast in the mornings. And the thing is, he does sweet stuff like this all the time. So even though he hasn�t said those three damning words �I love you�, he shows me how much he cares more than any poor sod who ever did profess undying love. Needless to say, I�ll be bagging out of Monday�s meeting with The Feet. Why mess with a good thing? I want to mention what a rock star I felt like this weekend. Got out to Shelter Island around 10:30pm. On the way there I realized that Italian is possibly the only person on the face of the earth with a worse sense of direction than myself. Scary thought! Only made me more fond of him. We both breathed a sigh of relief as we pulled on to the ferry. Whew � the air makes you a different person, I start to feel each muscle in my shoulders and back unclench. As we reach the other side, we are playing �Total Eclipse Of The Heart� full blast and singing along at the top of our lungs with the windows wide open as everyone else on the ferry looks on in horror. Friday night we collect everyone else at the house (including Hetty and Chree who of course beat us there because Chree had timed everything, searched the Internet for the best route, purchased two maps of Shelter Island, and called ahead for a ferry schedule) and headed out to our usual haunts. First, Sunset Beach, then on to the Dory. Dory was it�s usual hole in the wall. Hetty, Chree and I all mused that it was exactly like going home to the Northeast Kingdom only we hadn�t slept with anyone in the bar. Please note, we are not a bunch of wanton women. In Northern Vermont there is no escape, everyone knows everyone and there are only so many eligible men (using this term extremely loosely of course - there are only so many ski bums one gal can date). Even if you haven�t actually slept with a guy, you surely know someone who has, and therefore have all the gory details. Anyways. Back to the Dory, amazing how fun it all can seem when you don�t live smack dab in the middle of it. After owning the juke box and several vodka tonics, we all piled into The Cow (that�s cab to you landlubbers � I�ll tell this story later) and headed Home. Bed. Saturday was gorgeous. Beach all day. Glorious! Went for a boat ride with friends and got to swim in the ocean (surprisingly warm)! We were all a little leary because come 5:30 we were all running in the Shelter Island 10K. Meaning that at what would normally be cocktail hour we would all be hoofing six some miles. I will be the first to admit that I was horrified at the thought. Sure I run, but come on! Six miles after smoking a pack of cigarettes and imbibing several vodka tonics the night before! Six miles after baking in the sun all day (I was drinking enough water to hydrate a camel)! The only thing that kept me in it was my vicious competitive spirit. That and the fact that I knew I�d be outrageously cranky if everyone else did it and I didn�t � you know, one of those face your fears moments or something. Besides, I wanted to show The Italian I could do it � sad, but true. And, I wanted the tee shirt. So, we did it. And I have to say, it was one of the best experiences of my life (no exaggeration here). First of all it was such a gorgeous run around the island and secondly everyone was out cheering us along banging on pots and pans, spraying us with hoses, slapping our hands. I kept a good pace, didn�t push myself, and really enjoyed it. Didn�t hurt at all! I was so proud of myself when I finished with 9-minute miles (right behind Moira who runs races all the time). Hell, I was proud of myself for finishing � period! I was the fourth in our group to finish. We�re all here. It is amazing how good it feels to do something that you�re scared or intimidated to do. The Italian (I�m tired of typing that, let�s refer to him as C. from now on), took pics of everyone crossing the finish line � tis a beautiful thing. After the race C., Chree, and Hetty and I cleaned up and went to Bob�s Fish House for dinner. Typical fish house fare (as in uh, any kind of FISH with a side of baked or fried and slaw). BYOB so we had great wine (several bottles). It was great to have C. spend time with the girls. Bonding moment here. The waitress was great � perfect! Then on to Sunset again to dance a bit to Patois� eclectic mix of music. Lots of pictures, made fifty new best friends (we have the photos to prove it). Then home (before 4am!) to have an impromptu dance party and play Balderdash. Bed. Sunday � more beach! Then C. and I snuck out to have dinner just the two of us. Whew! We felt like parents who had gotten some time away from the kids. After dinner we got frozen yogurt and sat on the beach watching the beginnings of the sunset. One of those moments when everything is perfect and we both looked at each other and said � �Only five more days and we�ll be back here again�. 6:47 p.m. - 2001-06-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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