belts, bye, and a space-age onesie.
in Funny Stuff, Thoughts and Feelings
as belt, divorce certificate, drew, flower pattern, gonna, Ingrid Michaelson, Japan, leather belt, M A BELT, onesie, plain jane, something, wanna
I have a space-age onesie.
I like it.
It’s not the sort of thing I’m gonna wear to church. I think I’d be just a little too self-conscious in it, considering it’s silver and collared and all that. But I do like it.
It’s like Startrek meets couture or something. And then puts on a pair of heels. Cause I’ve only worn it with heels.
And I’ve only worn it in Japan.
Which is interesting because, well, Drew hasn’t ever seen me wear it. And neither have any of you, most likely, but the difference is that Drew might very well never see me wear it. And yeah, I know. That’s a lyric that’s just begging to go into a song:
And now you’ll never see me in my space age silver onesie…
It should probably be a country song. Or a rap. Definitely a rap.
And then the other day I realized that the only belts I have right now are either bright pink, bright blue, or purple. So yeah, what about if one needs to wear a belt that doesn’t say, LOOK AT ME!! I’M A BELT THAT NEVER GOT THE ATTENTION I NEEDED WHILE GROWING UP!!!!
Oh, what’s that? All the normal people have belts that are either a polite and respectful brown or black? And they get these alleged belts at places like Macy’s? Great.
So I went to Macy’s and took way too long to decide upon one sensible brown leather belt. And yes, it’s got some flower pattern etched into it cause, come on. You really think I’m gonna go completely plain jane on you?
And as I was buying it I had the thought: Drew doesn’t know about this belt and may never know about this belt.
And sure, it’s just a belt. I mean, there’s a freaking divorce certificate that will be arriving in the mail before too long so maybe I should save my mental processing for that beast, but these details, they are significant too. And the belt is just another detail of my life that is separate from his and whoa! I never could have predicted this.
And tonight I got to go see Ingrid Michaelson (who was stunningly awesome, by the way) and she sang this line–
I don’t wanna be the one to say goodbye
But I will, I will, I will
I don’t wanna sit on the pavement while you fly
But I will, I will, oh yes I will
And see, it’s true. I never did wanna be the one to say goodbye. Not once. And I always hated each of the regular goodbyes that were a part of our life together, what with my job continuing to take me away and all that.
But sometimes goodbye is the right thing to say and sometimes it’s more just like bye because there just doesn’t seem like much good left. Until, that is, you do say goodbye.
And start to buy belts on your own.
And yes, it’s just a belt, but it’s something.
And something usually leads to something else which in this case I’m hoping is gonna be good.
dumb dumb dumb
in Funny Stuff, Thoughts and Feelings
as blah, Christian, dumb thing, hugs not drugs, man, part, societal expectations, thick accent, thing, tylenol, tylenol pm, wanna
Oh, I do dumb things sometimes.
Okay, so I did a dumb thing once.
Ha.
I think I will have to stick with my original statement.
Like the time I was really sad and afraid of the night, afraid of the quiet, afraid of my thoughts, and decided it would be a good idea to take a tylenol pm. Well okay, I took a tylenol pm four times. And everyone was all, Is that a good idea? Are you gonna be okay? Blah blah blah we care we care we care while I was all, Blah blah blah I wanna sleep wanna sleep wanna sleeeeeeeeep.
I mean, it’s not like I took five or anything.
And then my friend Christian came over to talk some sense into my sad little brain and by the end of our talk I was really feeling the effects of my decision concerning the dosage of the tylenol pm and abruptly announced that I was either going to have to sit down or throw up.
To which he responded, Well then sit down!!!
And I guess that’s why he’s a good counselor; he regularly gives sound advice like that.
But I did one even better than that. I went to bed and proceeded to sleep like the dead, waking up about thirteen hours later feeling like Rumpelstiltskin rising out of bed with that niggling thought that you are probably late for something.
But yeah, that was kind of dumb. And for the record, I highly agree with the sentiment expressed in hugs not drugs. And also for the record, I think hugs can be kind of weird. Like a slow dance without the music. Especially when they’re lingering and you’d rather have moved on to the next stage of societal expectations, thank you.
But some hugs.
They can be really sweet.
I will say that.
Now onto my next dumb thing I’ve done.
Today, in fact.
There was a man who looked Russian nearby, so we had that in common, I guess. The looking Russian part, not the man part. Ew. Man part. Okay, moving on. But, in a thick accent, he told me that I have a beautiful body.
I know, creepy alert number one.
So I thanked him and then he asked me if I am a model.
So I said no, that I’m a dancer.
Professional? he asked. Yes, I answered.
And then he told me that he has lots of jobs available for dancers and asked me for my card. And I know, Jason, I need to get a card. But I told him I didn’t have one, so I could give him my email address.
And then he offered the option of me giving him my number.
And yes, probably another creepy alert.
And remember how I sometimes do dumb things? Well case in point: I did it. I gave him my number. But (deep breath)
Idon’teverhavetotalktohimbecauseIdon’thavetoanswermyphoneifhecalls
andnowthatIthinkaboutitIdon’tthinkhisjobsareevenlegitimate.
But I admit, it was a dumb thing to do.
Here’s to tomorrow; a blank slate.
Here’s to better choices and all that.
My name is Jessica and this is a nice, quiet space that I like to cram with words.
