kiwifruit's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Babies and bad vibes... Sunday morning. Cup of joe in front of me, sun shining, 9am. What, for the love of God am I doing up at this hour? I have already scrubbed kitchen sink, made said coffee, had phone conversation with mom, heading to yoga in an hour. Well, things have made me sleepless. My friend Amy had baby last night at 11:15. Dylan. Dylan is so tiny and shiny and crunchy you just want to stuff your face in his belly and stay there for hours. Only his belly is so small you couldn�t fit your face in it. Arrived at the Mt. Sinai just in time to see new dad come into the waiting room in full scrubs glowing more than his red haired, rosy complexioned self usually does. Amy was of course exhausted and extremely drugged up�I promised her we would be in bikinis sunning ourselves by the ocean in a few months (she had a c- section but was very happy to tell me the scar wouldn�t be visible). I promised her that even sooner we�d have apple martinis to celebrate (she�s been talking about apple martinis for nine months now). And I promised to bring her LOTS of lemonade tomorrow because that was her one request. This is my first friend to have a baby. I look at her in awe�you MADE that little thing? Wow. Meanwhile, back in reality�left boyfriend reeling around a bar well past knowing when to say when. The thing is, he�s so wonderful when he�s sober. (Now if that doesn�t sound like something out of a made for TV movie then I don�t know what does. Might as well be the abused woman who looks pleadingly through her bruised, weepy eye and says �He said he was sorry. He said it wouldn�t happen again��we all know where this plot is going right?) I am tired of it. He has so many (countless) wonderful qualities, so I tell myself�if this is the worst thing he ever does, then I don�t have much to complain about. And I�m no poster girl for sobriety and clean living. The difference is, I know when to say �enough�, I know when to get my drunk ass in a cab, drink a gallon of water, down some Tylenol and get thee to bed. And I�m fine with having a few glasses of wine with dinner and then calling it a night. This is not boyfriend�s story. Boyfriend drinks to the point of stupidity. He�s a nice drunk and all, but really�is this what I want for myself? He spends all week treating his body like a temple (no carbs, gym every day, in bed by ten), and all weekend desiccating that temple. It�s gotten boring. It�s gotten hard to watch. And I know that he won�t change, so I�ve got to ask myself�what do you want to do here? Live with it, or pick yourself up and move on? Okay�must change topic because here�s the thing, as much as I like to picture myself as strong, independent, kick ass kind of woman�I am not entirely sure the bad outweighs the good in this situation, and in all honesty, I doubt I�m going anywhere (except to yoga at 10 and to brunch and photo exhibit with friend Hillary). I may be back later�I�m going to break down and have a post yoga cigarette with my coffee. Pffft�and I have the nerve to criticize others for their contradictory lifestyle choices? Whatever� 9:20 a.m. - 2002-01-27 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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