Being friends with an ex comes with its own special baggage
Think I’m pretty much just feeding the mice at this point. They even keep eating all the poison bait I put out, with no effect.
Mouse1: Look, I like that he leaves us food on these shiny wood and metal plates. But, #$@#! That green stuff gave me a @#$@#! stomachache. Mouse2: Why do you have to curse so much? Mouse1: I’ve become inured to it as the expressive vocabulary of my society. It’s neither indicative of a belief nor of a value system. Mouse2: (…) Mouse1: (sighing, shaking head) I know, we totally gotta get outta this #$@#$@ joint.
May take one of No. 6’s cats. Besides the mouse issue, I miss having a pet that doesn’t swim in its own waste.
Unfortunately, my last conversation with her was decidedly unpleasant. While I like the thought of having a cat that I’m used to, I’m worried it’s gonna come with baggage.
No more baggage for this bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, Asian boy, thanx.
Plus, I’ve never had a little kitten before; that might be kinda cool.
Got a gig to go to fancy dinners and chat with rich people.
Him: You really don’t know? They want you because of how you look. Me: (surprised) You’re kidding me. What about my resume? Him: (shrugging) Didn’t even look at it. You’re meeting Ed Koch on Wednesday. Free up your nights, wear a suit and don’t bring a date. Oh…don’t get fat.
After a breakup, I tend to get hit on more. Even Gio noticed people looking at me tonight. I think it’s the lack of sleep, plus, I don’t eat much when I’m single. It’s nice but my hands are shaking again.
I’m usually the icebreaker of my friends. Some of them (not Gio) “love” the women I’m with but the moment I’m single, they tell me things like, “Oh, I never liked her,” to get me back in the scene.
Ugh. I hate that. I hate gossip folk.
My exes weren’t perfect but I was with them for a reason.
Speaking of which, The Ex stopped by unexpectedly on Sunday night to pick up some of her things.
Long post. I come to you with questions. But first, some background:
Her: Do you only date non-asians? Me: (puzzled) Most the women I’ve dated have been Asians. In fact, I’ve only dated two four that weren’t. I’m equal opportunity. Him: Yeah, everyone deserves an opportunity to be miserable with Logan.
With nods to Mylai, I have FOUR weddings to go to in the next two months and I’ve already RSVP-ed with a date as…oh, I’d rather not say, it’s complicated. Anyway, questions for you – answers will be much appreciated (really, I wanna know):
Should I call and tell them all that I’m going stag? Inevitably, I’ll have to say at least 12 times: “I’d rather not say, it’s complicated.”
Should I just bring someone? Pro: no questions. Con: You read this blog, use your imagination. I’m reluctant to bring a friend because weddings are big deals – especially these weddings (man, reading this, I am an idiot).
Unrelated to the above, am I updating this blog too much? I’ve had RIDICULOUS insomnia these days.
Friday I spent quietly at home because I went out Monday and Thursday of last week.
Saturday was a different story:
7AM – 2PM Work
2PM – 4PM fencing
4PM – 7PM dinner party
7PM – 9PM speed dating thing (I didn’t participate, I was just catching up with a friend that ran the event)
10PM – 11PM Birthday party
11PM – 3AM Club
3AM – 7AM Extracurricular activity
I’d put in more details but I’m still trying to remember them.
Been running into ex-girlfriends in the oddest of ways. In a manner of speaking.
At the speed dating thing, I met a girl that knew my first girlfriend. She told me that my ex was still single. For some reason, that didn’t surprise me.
The birthday party was full of girls that actually stayed at my house 10 years ago, (wait for it) for a church retreat sponsored by my third girlfriend. They’re all about 26-28 now. Quite weird. They told me that my third girlfriend is married, pregnant and happy. I’m glad to hear.
I just got home about 15 minutes ago and in my in box is an email from another ex-girlfriend from Europe. She’s going to send me some pictures of my time in Europe. She’s a sweetheart.
It’s easier to start new things than try to replace old things
My tub faucet sprung a leak the other day so I decided it was time to fix it.
I’m always trying to fix things in my life.
My car, my finances, my computer, my body, my love life – the list goes on. I decided just the other day to repair my relationship with my lower abs. We’ve kept in touch but I’ve just not seen them in six months.
Spent almost all of last summer trying to fix my hellish relationship with my ex.
As an aside, it would have been nice if she told me that it was not only broken but that she had already given speaking lines to three other drivers (whom I don’t think have seen any of their abs in decades, one word: flexbelt; of course, it’s not just about looks, to their credit they’re also dull as rock soup).
Sorry, just snarky because I’ve got a drip that’s driving me mad.
Point is, fixing is different than building. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to build. This spring I’m building things with old friends and new.
I’m tired – my insomnia’s returned. I’m running about at half-speed and, more stressing, half-wit.
Saw my ex again a few days ago. She came by to pick up one last thing she left here. It was actually pleasant. She and I both managed to crack a smile or two.
Told her that I was seeing someone. Nothing yet, I said, more the chance that it could be something.
She nodded and slowly smiled and said that she hoped it worked out for me.
I believe her.
She also said that I should get a handle on my insomnia because it was a major problem in our relationship. The irony of her comment was that it kept me up all night despite a massive amount of chemicals.
But the other thing that kept my past girlfriends and me from being happy, I realized, was pride. Admittedly, it was usually mine. It’s a horrid sin.
Our respective pride has not served my ex nor me well.
Regardless of who I end up, I’ve decided to choose her over my pride.
Pride enables you to say, But at least I was right, to an empty room.
And I tell you from experience that there’s no more deafening an echo than that.