This has been one of those weekends where I'm screaming from one thing to the next, and I didn't even mention to you I have another statistics textbook to proofread, and how much time on it do you think I spent? Hmmm? How much?
Remember the other day when I said I invite chaos into my life? Yes.
On Friday, I dashed home and let the dog out, who who who. That's funny every time. Then I screamed to this restaurant downtown and met with my friend Jo. Yes, I DO wish I could have lavender hair. I feel like my workplace would frown at me, though. Jo gets to be a fancy writer type whose hair can do whatever it wants.
The place we went to is super pretentious. I was in there with Ned once, and I ordered the bruschetta. "Brooosketta?" The waiter pronounced it back to me, like I was saying it wrong.
I looked it up. Turns out I was.
STILL. You shouldn't CORRECT someone you're waiting on. Guy who's a waiter.
You know from now on, any time someone pronounces it "brushetta" I'll be all snobby about it.
The point is, as per usual Friday, they had pretentious appetizers, which we ordered because hungry, and they also had all kinds of fancy cocktails. Like, they had descriptions you could choose from and they'd make you a drink based on them: frothy, bubbly and so on.
We both got Schlitz from the tap. Because that was so wonderfully awful. I don't think I've had a Schlitz since I sneaked my great-uncle Hermie's beer off the TV tray in 1972.
Edsel is DYING to go outside. He already went out there and barked at Jackie, and I TOLD him if he went out there and barked at Jackie, I was gonna be pissed. I went out there and said in my low, terrible voice, "Edsel" and he slunk in, all Letter C about it. I know the gaybors heard me say, "See what you've done? It's a beautiful day and you ruined it by barking." So now he thinks he ruined the whole day. Oh, how he wants to burst through the screen door, which he could do and does do, but he fears the reaper.
And yes, that screen door IS broken. It's the only thing the tenants did that was bad--they left the screen this way. Just one of 9393494394 things on my damn list.
As is this. The medicine cabinet fell CLEAN OFF the wall the other day. Just clean off. And who knew there was a big hole back there? It broke, the medicine cabinet did, but believe it or not I have another one just lying around.
Ned and I bought it when we lived together; we were planning to put it up in our upstairs bathroom, but Ned always felt guilty about drilling into the wall, and the point is, of all the things I happen to have, I happen to have a medicine cabinet. A cute retro one, too. But it doesn't fit in the hole. Story of my life. So now I gotta call a handyman.
Yesterday as soon as I woke up, the guy who cuts my grass texted to see if my yard needed tending and oh, god, it did. I expected that guy from Laugh-In to be back there, saying, "Very interesting."
Why was that funny? At the time some guy saying, "Very interesting" was riveting. It was...very interesting.
Anyway, note the puppy above. I STILL REGRET not keeping Stanley the puppy, and I've been talking with a pit rescue who has three litters of pups available soon. It's a whole thing: You had to fill out an application, then do a phone interview, and then yesterday someone did a home visit. A HOME visit. Naturally I put my puppy meat hangers in the attic.
So while the guy was cutting my grass, this cute woman with curly red hair was also here, and what's cool about this organization is not only do they save pit bulls, who need saving because no one wants them, but they also sort of do a dating service thing, where they match you up with the kind of dog who'd work best for you.
"I want a really chill pup, as chill as puppies can be," I told them countless times, "because my other dog is what you'd call an excitable boy." The whole time, through the paperwork, the phone interview, texts with the redhead, I told them this. He's high strung. He's a Carolina Dog, they can be nervous. And so on.
The woman got here and Edsel's never been so calm in his goddamn life. He SAUNTERED to the door, sniffed her, then flopped in his bed with a hmph. He slept the WHOLE TIME she was here, which by the way was more than two hours because we ended up having coffee and gabbing about our entire lives. You know how with some people it's effortless? I'm sorry to tell you that at one point I sobbed like an idiot about Tallulah, but she's a dog person. She knows.
Anyway, still mulling the whole idea but godDAMMIT I regret not having that puppy.
Hey, did I mention I invite chaos into my life?
When the home inspector Dogseau left, I had 45 minutes to shower and get over to the coffee shop, where a guy from work has offered to help me revamp my blog. Exciting! He's just doing it cause that sort of thing is "fun" for him. Can you imagine?
Finally, I went home and tried working on my statistics textbook, and I got maybe an hour of work done before Ned called. As you know, since Tallulah died I have been seeing Ned from time to time.
But I don't know, man. We've solved nothing since we broke up; our problems are still there. Finally yesterday I told him maybe he should try out some other relationships, make sure I'm really the person for him. And I said that if we do try to see each other again, I had some bottom-line requirements, and that my compromise would be he'd never, ever have to marry me. But I needed some stuff from him. We didn't yell or get mad. I mean, I wasn't mad. I don't know if he is.
"Should I call you?" he asked me.
"Call me if you're willing to do the things I require and if you're absolutely certain it's worth it to work things out with me," I said, and I left.
I've a feeling I won't hear from him. And if I don't, that's fine. I've spent a lot of time talking myself down through this whole relationship. "Okay, so he isn't calling--that's fine, that's how he is." "Okay, so he's not ready to be exclusive yet. Okay, I can deal with this." "Okay, he doesn't want to get married. I can live with that, right?"
I mean, the whole time, there's been something I have to tell myself to calm down about. Should you really have to tell yourself to calm down about things on the regular, or should you be, I don't know, happy most of the time?
Marvin and I had different problems, eventually, but most of the time I was married to Marvin it was pretty effortless. I felt secure; I knew he loved the crap out of me. Isn't that how a good relationship is?
And it should be effortless for Ned, too. I mean, he should be able to be himself without someone fretting about it. He was set in his ways, but he wasn't disloyal and he always showed up when you really needed him. Maybe he needs someone a little more chill. Like my next puppy.