boy blogging is boring but i still haven't heard if B- has accepted my invitation to spend the weekend with me before i leave town. it's driving me nuts, making me second-guess friday night and wondering if i did something wrong.
aagh. i hate this. i hate. this.
22 comments:
relax. it's only wednesday. and to think, i haven't even gone to the "you shouldn't be gettin' busy with your boy" yet. oops. i think i just did ;)
well, that train has already left the station. but thanks, mom!
(heh.)
Okay, all sorts of red flags are going up for me based on this post and the one before it--but I don't know that you want a long-time lurker (but not a stranger: we knew each other in grad school: I was a friend of K's) weighing in on your personal life.
(Okay, I just re-read the parenthetical above and worry that it sounds creepy. I just don't want to disrupt your pseudonymity here and am happy not to put my real name out there for all the world to see, as well. Please e-mail me if you'd like.)
does the word "derail" work here?
r. - uhh...is it bad i can't remember who K- is? were you in my department?
de-lurk, by all means! jc has no problem telling me not to fornicate so have at it!
jc - derail might work here. but i'm determined that B- and i get the friend thing right, at least. at the very least.
i truly think that if he lived in another neighborhood, i.e., closer to my own, that most of our issues would not be issues. as it is, we spend half our time figuring out and arguing about scheduling because we live on opposite sides of the city and our different lifestyles (mine, normal; his, monastic) are too different.
red flag? probably.
Maybe you should skip each other's apartments for the most part and meet on convenient neutral ground for courtship. Sure, nobody's going to fornicate while out for dinner or drinks downtown, but maybe it could help you figure out if the location/schedule business is a straw man masking other problems/incompatibilities, or if this could really be something if it weren't for the logistical woes.
Hmm, I see there are 11 comments on the previous post. Maybe I should read those before going all bossy here?
that sounds like a good idea. avoid the issue of where to sleep altogether by removing it completely from our 'dating' equation.
yay, celibacy!
mom is pleased ;)
yeah, i was just kidding.
You don't remember K? K also stands for kilt. :)
Ooh! A solution! You meet for dinners downtown so the location isn't a problem, and you have tawdry and hot sex standing up in restaurant bathrooms like naughty couples.
r. -
oh my god. the kelvinator.
(snort) if i remember correctly, it's been ages!
orange,
you know, a lot of accidents happen in bathrooms...
ugh. i'm at home drinking half a bottle of wine, listening to ray lamontagne, diana krall, al green, and etta james. it's sad what being ignored has reduced me to.
Yay! She remembers! K at least. Can she place me?
K and I kept in good touch until a couple of years ago, when things ended in a fantastic rhetorical explosion (which had, I'm happy to say, nothing to do with me--but pretty much made it impossible for us to keep going). It's a story I (pathetically) never tire of telling, although I probably shouldn't on your weblog.
I started in 1996. You and I were in the same teaching circle? I think? We spent a lot of time chatting in Espresso Royale, where you held court, and then--poof! You were gone!
but what great music . . . .
i totally remember! J- mentioned running into you when he was there teaching for a year.
wow - i can't even figure out how you found me here! (unless you stumbled across me and put all the little puzzle pieces together...)
see? there's no more ERC so now i have this, my little screed.
welcome to my holiday pity party - courtesy of B-! damn him.
and my pity party music list has finally ended with norah jones. enough with pity. pity's for suckers.
Okay, but now I'm thinking that you *don't* remember me. I can't place at all your sentence, "J- mentioned running into you when he was there teaching for a year." I can think of a few Js, but a J teaching there for a year? whom I ran into? Hmmmm . . .
I have been a regular reader of bitchphd, so I'm sure I've seen you there. But I actually have taken a much more direct route: Mark D. told me about your weblog when we were dating. The story of Mark and me is also, sadly, not one for public consumption, tempting though it may be . . . . There is, though, a question I've always wanted to ask you about him . . . .
i'm sure i remember you:
you were in Eng & Ed, you were friends with K-, you wore a red raincoat sometimes, and you were totally the nicest person ever!
uh, right? and you weren't in my cohort but the one behind mine.
and feel free to email me! you've got me dying with curiosity!
you MUST email me.
MUST.
You do remember me! Although I have never been the nicest person ever. I'm certainly not now. I had forgotten about that red coat, which is a pretty vivid (and long-cherished) thing to forget. I keep meaning to give it to the homeless shelter some of my students do their service at, especially when my students announced that they were really hurting for warm winter clothes, but I never get around to it. Maybe I still have too much tied to it. (I also know that the shelter is mostly in need of *men's* clothes--and few men could pull off that coat.)
This morning I had hazy memories of bumping into J one day when he had come back to teach. Just as you said. It's coming back to me, the contour, at least.
E-mail coming . . . .
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