kiwifruit's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You Mean That's Not Normal? When I haven�t been here in a while I feel the need to squeeze in every event that has happened over the past week. But it�s impossible and really, kind of boring. So just he highlights: C. telling me �Happy Anniversary� at 12:01 AM Friday night/Saturday morning. In Montauk, the sun showing up just as we unloaded our beach chairs from the car. Dinner just the two of us Saturday night at Bob�s Fish Market (best cajun Sea Bass ever) � with slaw and baked of course, plus a great bottle of French wine. Waking up Monday morning and knowing I didn�t have to go to the dotcomedy. C. crawling back into bed Monday morning saying he took a �personal day�. Spending Monday shopping in SOHO, taking a rowboat out on the pond in Central Park, and visiting the Imagine Mosaic while the banker/businessman sang Lennon tunes. Meeting The Feet for a drink at Rialto and noticing for the first time the way he looked at me. Managing to leave the Rialto and walk The Feet to the train without kissing him (really). Getting an email from The Feet the next day which confirmed that the way he looked at me really did mean what I thought it did. Responding to his email with a question about gourmet salt. Last night C. and I had a disastrous night. I should have known, when you spend the day thinking things are going to go well. Anticipating this going-well-ness. It is guaranteed that things will go horribly wrong. I am still smarting from it all and would probably be a lot worse off if I hadn�t gone to kickboxing class today at noon. I kicked C�s ass all over the place in that class. Plus, I kind of have a crush on the instructor. This is not an isolated incident. Several of my girlfriends have said that they too had crushes on their kickboxing instructors. So I guess the moral of the story is this, if you are a guy who wants to score with the babes, learn to kickbox. Hey, it worked for Jon Cusack in �Say Anything� didn�t it? Any-hoo, last night � Nah, feck it. Don�t feel like going into it right now. We got in a fight. It�s not the end of the world. Although, sometimes it feels like the end of the world � or at least the end of our relationship. So today I wake up in his bed still not sure if I�m still mad or if I should be an adult and forget about it. Then I stumble to the Italian deli and have an ice coffee. I call mom and tell her about the exciting opportunity that popped up on Wednesday, the one that I�m not letting myself get excited about or even mention beyond this cryptic little sentance. I kickbox my arse off while making googly eyes at the instructor who really isn�t very cute at all. I eat a ridiculously large tuna fish sandwich. And I send my resume to a dozen people who probably won�t respond. I talk to C. on the phone (since I�m at his house using his computer) and he tells me that we are doing something nice tonight just us. Ahhh yes, time to kiss and make up. And beyond all of that I get a phone call from Chree yesterday. She asks me, do I ever think about how truly bizarre our childhood was. Well, yeah, I guess. I mean, what else do you talk about in therapy? What else do you blame all your failures and problems on? She tells me about a dinner party she and Hetty attended last week. Hetty started telling a childhood story, she�s babbling away when suddenly she and Chree realize that everyone at the table has a look of absolute horror on their faces. Oh, you mean that wasn�t what it was like for everyone?!!? Who knew! And when I mention this to my mom she says �Lots of kids grew up that way�. Um, okay, if you say so � The level of our parent�s denial is a never-ending source of amusement for Chree and I. 3:30 p.m. - 2001-06-22 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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