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oh, do stay tuned

I’m working on a very angst-ridden post about my waning days in Seattle and a certain fellow I dated who helped spur my fateful decision to move away.

It’s all very serious and heartbreaking and not silly at all.

Also, I’m working on a post about the falling-in-love moment. The moment when you KNOW: it’s happened. It’s done. Something my sister and I were talking about a while ago that inspired this post in progress.

You know, just a coupla withered crones sittin’ around talkin’ about when people used to love us.

I told MB I was writing this post and he basically shrugged.

So now I am definitely writing it. Not in a vengeful way, of course — no, never — but in a VENGEFUL way. You know, just to be clear.

Look. The man doesn’t have a jealous bone in his body and it is a HUGE HUGE HIDEOUS flaw. I don’t think he could even list the names of the men I’ve dated because, you see, in his mind — HAHA! He has trumped them all!! To him, the other guys mentioned in the post — not by name, of course — are basically Guy A, Guy B, etc. Forever anonymous. So what is there to know?

All right. Fine. Whatevs, Linus.

It’s okay. Later, I will suffocate him in his sleep.

Actually, I’m not sure the other guys would feel “trumped” at all; probably more like they escaped shrieking into the night with their lives and sanity barely intact.

But I’m not just writing it for, you know, VENGEFUL purposes alone, but because I will be interested to hear what it’s been like for the rest of you, that moment when you just KNEW …. you were in love. Toast.

I’m nosy, let’s not forget.

Okay. In all seriousness, I guess I’m writing this huge disclaimer before I even post the piece because I can almost feel a nasty email brewing out there in the ether. Some people may not understand. How could you write about that, etc. But look. MB knows and accepts that I write. He knows I had a life before him and accepts that I will sometimes write about it. People I knew before him, experiences I had before him, these are part of my life. They make up who I am. They impacted me, for good or bad; changed me for better or worse. And these falling-in-love moments I’ll be writing about taught me something about myself. About how my own heart works and responds. About the kind of person I needed in my life.

So I’m writing about it.

And dodging my inbox.

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chatting with piper

So Piper is here a few weekends ago and we’re driving to the beach. She’s in the back seat, talking about the boys who like girls in her class and vice versa. I cannot tell you the level of psychic distress ol’ Tee Tee is having hearing this. I mean, the child is eight. I’m watching her in my sideview mirror talking quite animatedly on this entire topic. My blood is running cold. Or I’m having a thrombosis. Some kind of medical emergency is imminent, I’m sure. I dial 9-1 into my cell phone. Finally I say — because I must know, to see if I’ll ever sleep again — “Well, you don’t have a boyfriend, do you, Piper?”

And in the sideview, I see her lower her head and say in utter dejection, “Nooo. Mom and Dad won’t let me date yet.”

Clearly, she thinks this is the worst thing ever. I’m choking on a bone or something. I haven’t even eaten.

“Well, sweetie,” I say as I dial that final 1 on my cell phone and stroke out, “it’s a little soon, okay? You need to wait awhile, a long while.”

FOREVVVVVVERRRRRR ……. I scream in my head.

Later I call my sister and demand an explanation. What’s up with THAT? I say.

S says, “Well, last year, she started writing in her journal about this boy in class she thought was cute.”

“Last year when she was seven, you mean?”

“Uh-huh.”

This is clearly why I’m not a parent. I’d have an aneurysm on Day One.

S continues.

“And I was chasing boys on the playground when I was her age.”

Uhm, as I recall, I might have called her a tramp. Maybe. Also, other words similar to tramp. But it’s all very hazy. So I’m pretty sure I didn’t do that.

************

My sister, asking Piper about her visits to her relatives’.

SISTER: So, Pipey, you had four nights at Nana and Pop Pop’s (my parents). Was that too much time, not enough time, just the right amount of time?

PIPER: I think it was just right, Mom.

SISTER: And you stayed two nights at Tee Tee and Uncle (Beloved’s). What about that? Too much time, not enough time, just the right amount of time?

PIPER: Oh, Mom. It’s never enough time at Tee Tee and Uncle (Beloved’s)!

Oh, my heart. That kid will make it explode some day.

Just sayin’ is all.

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weekend snippet

ME: What’s wrong?
HE: Nothing.
ME: You’re sure?
HE: Uh-huh.
ME: Well, maybe, but I sense a crust forming.
HE: A crust, huh?
ME: Yep.
HE: That’s just the pudding skin of my personality.