2003-04-15 - 7:31 p.m.
Relatives, friends and automobiles
Mom just called. It seems we both forgot my cousin R’s birthday. This is bad. I always remember people’s birthdays, or I try to. Except my friend Kel’s—for the past two years, I’ve said three days before her birthday, “Don’t forget to send something to Kel!” and I always forget until about a week later. But anyway. I guarantee that R didn’t notice that I forgot her birthday. I’m sure she didn’t care. The kid just turned 19. Nineteen. My baby cousin just turned 19. I am old.
But besides that. I’m pissed at the mailroom. I asked them to take two HUGE boxes into the mailroom, and I would label them for FedEx. I didn’t label them because I didn’t have an address. They sent them out anyway. With yesterday’s labels. Which meant they’re either coming straight back to us (idiots) or they’re lost in transit forever, which would mean my ass on a stick. Oh, well. I am, surprisingly, not too concerned at the moment. My ass on a stick? Feh.
Six more weeks. Six more weeks. Six more weeks.
I had some weird dreams last night. I dreamt that I knew the people who got the TA positions that I wanted (I didn’t get one, but I won’t know that for sure until next week). I dreamt I was surrounded by classmates. I dreamt I was in a department store surrounded by flowery linens, which I hate. I dreamt there was a HUGE breakfast buffet spread out for us, with bagels and cheese and blintzes, but I wasn’t dressed for it. Instead, I was wrapped in an insufficient blanket and people kept bringing things to help me cover up. Why was I wrapped in a blanket? Because I kept sneaking off to have sex with my Ex. Damn. I’m a weirdo. But I got a pretty decent night’s sleep out of it, which is good.
My friend D is coming to visit this weekend. Actually, he’s coming on Thursday—he’s joining me for seder at Mom’s in Baltimore, then we’re coming back here. When he first told me he was coming to town, I was really, really excited. Now? I’m just kind of meh about the whole thing. I mean, I love D, he’s one of my closest friends and I haven’t seen him in two years, but I’m not nearly as excited as I was. I think having the Visitor here was a weird kind of wake-up call. Lots of cleaning to do for guests, and then there’s no guarantee that you’ll get laid. Hee. But I had such a great time with the Visitor, so I think I’m just kind of thinking that I won’t have nearly as great a time with D. Oh, well.
D and I have a strange history. When we first met, when I was a junior and he was a freshman, I thought he was a nice enough kid. He was in my a cappella group. Then I had a dream about him kissing me, and it all went downhill. I got wrapped up in him. I started hugely crushing. We almost hooked up once, but we didn’t, and from then on it was two years of horrible, crazy unrequited love on my part. We became very good friends, which was nice, but it was all colored by my stupid pining and thinking that he was the perfect man for me and that we’d be wonderful together. He came to the formal with me my senior year. We went out for dinners together. Right before I graduated, he took me to a wonderful dinner in the North End where we both got sloshed off a bottle of Chianti. When we said goodbye, he gave me a “see you later” which pissed me off to no end. What about, “Goodbye, I’ll miss you, you’re the best”?
Then, about 10 months later, I saw him again. I stayed with him on a visit back to school. I brought him cookies, as I did every year on his birthday. We had a great time. Then I found out that he’d been hooking up with one of our best friends. Grrrrrreat. It caused a lot of pain and heartbreak and tension, and it was probably the single worst weekend I’ve had.
But he and I managed to maintain our friendship. It was rocky at first, but we pulled through. I eventually got over him. We still talk every few months, and we email a lot. He still keeps certain things from me, though, like when he told me he’d just broken up with his girlfriend—I had not known about this girlfriend. He kept it from me, even though he knew that I’d been dating the Ex. Whatever. Freak.
But he’s coming to visit. And it will be fun. And we’ll talk about movies and LA and life again. Maybe we’ll go to the Spy Museum. And he’ll again be a nice enough kid.
I feel sorry for him, though. He’s 6’3”. He’s too tall for my couch. But there’s no way he’s getting the bed.
