Saturday, January 12, 2008

Ok. So Maybe I'm Torturing Myself...

I found this whole box labeled: "Cards, faxes, emails" and opened it up. Found this whole part of cards from X. From when we were dating. I wish I could really express what sort of feelings this brings up in me. It's kind of a combination of numbness, remembering, sadness - but not a sadness that we're no longer together.. more of like a nostalgic sadness... like where did that time go?

A smattering of the cards. The first one: kinda telling. "I admire the way in which you have made an effort to eat salads and walk home - over the past few weeks your discipline has been excellent. The results of course have been the attractive body that will be accompanying me to the Bar Mitzvah. You look absolutely stunning in that outfit and I will most proud to be with you. (As always.) Keep it up, sexy."

You know. I feel like 90% of my relationship with him was about how I looked. It's so sick. He was NOT always most proud to be with me. He once told me he didn't want to go into a pizza shop because he didn't want the cute girl there to see him with me. (I must've told this story about 30 million times. I will never ever forget it.)

So ok. So I guess another emotion that these cards are bringing up is the anger. The sadness. The disbelief that he did love me. I know he did. He's just... well... ill, I guess. He would buy me cards & tape them to my front door - before we lived together.

A Valentine's Card: "Well it's not the kind of valentines day you would find in a Hollywood movie. However the card tells the story. I love you very very much. I apologize for sometimes taking you for granted. Maybe the excuse that "I'm going through a difficult time" is starting to wear a little thin. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this evening. Your boyfriend..." Can you imagine? He was sending me this when we were dating. Hello?!? Red flag?!? Taking me for granted and we were probably dating just about a year at that point!

Ok. Last one. I promise. "6 wonderful months that have gone by so quickly. Who knows how many more months there will be. Maybe many?! Or more than many?! Maybe years?! Lots of love..."

Gah! Is this good to do this? Therapeutic? Or is it warped? Masochistic?! I keep trying to find some sort of feeling.. and I don't really know what. I think the love. And it makes me sad that I can't. But I do know that it's definitely time to stop.

What I do on quiet weekends

Wait. I don't really ever have any quiet weekends...

The kids are with X this weekend and J is on a business trip in CA. So I'm by myself. Of course I could find people to do things with... but I have to say, I've been looking forward to this for a while. Solitude. Time in my apartment to get it a bit in shape. To clean. To veg. To watch "How to Look Good Naked." (It was my first time watching it... not really quite sure yet how I feel about it....)

So I went to Staples and bought some stuff to start filing things for 2008. And I started cleaning. And moving. And organizing. And I don't know about you, but for me that means lots of time spent sitting on the floor, surrounded by dust bunnies, going through memories. And I'm not such a big believer in throwing stuff out... so believe you- me - there's lots of stuff to go through.

Found the letter from the guy who was a Director at one of the places I worked. I was about 28, he was ... oh... maybe 50? Or near enough. And we sucked face. And I kept saying "But you're a Director!" He crashed at my place (on the couch - I was in my room, in my bed, thank you very much!) and had to go to the Gap the next morning to pick up a new shirt. Ahhh... memories.

Came across my old cowboy boots. They're ruined by the rain. I've brought them to three different shoe repair places. Some of you might remember when I wrote about them getting ruined in the rain... that was about 2-3 years ago. Yep. Still have 'em. Can't. Throw. Them. Out!

I found piles of old cards. Birthday cards. Cards from when I graduated from Social Work School. Found the last birthday card I got from X. It's SO him: "Happy Birthday. Looking forward to your graduation and 2 incomes and a house and a more certain future. I hope those are among your wishes. Lots of Love..." ""Lots of Love" Really? But wait. Isn't what he wrote all about HIM?

Found another card from him, maybe from the year before. "Happy Birthday to a warm, caring, loving wife who I'll miss enormously when she's gone. With lots of love (underlined)" I remember. I used to try to get some sort of expression of caring from him... or be noticed... and I'd say (jokingly) "Oh, you'll miss me when I'm gone!"

So I'm just kind of sitting here (well, actually I was sitting on the floor, surrounded by the aforementioned dust bunnies...) and just trying to assess how I feel. It seems that there was love in our relationship... but try as I might.. I can't really dig it up. I can't remember it.

And I'm going through credit card bills... I have them from 1998, dontcha know. (Ok, I started shredding those!!) And of course, before I shred them I have to look at them. And of course, each one has a memory. The time we went to Elephant Shop in Parnell, Auckland. When we went to Buy Buy Baby to get the stroller for Max, when we went to Wood World on the way up to Waipu Cove to stay at his Dad's caravan.. and how I joked how everything in NZ is "World". "Wood World, Auto World..." And teased him about the names & lack of imagination: "North Island, South Island, All Blacks, Tall Blacks (basketball!), All Whites...) And how, when his Dad was in the car with us and he threw a paper cup out the window and I made X stop the car & told his Dad to go out - "how could he litter such a beautiful country!?" And how X and I joked how it was ok that I did, that 'cause they kind of expected me to be like that: Jewish New Yorker, and all.... And I should feel happy, right? Remembering this stuff? And knowing that we did joke about stuff. And laugh. And have good times.

But all I remember is him making a hand motion to me that I'm not wearing lipstick. Or to stand with my feet together (low class to stand with your feet apart, you know...), and worrying that I looked too fat....


Guess I'll go back to my shredding.

Poynter Online - The Sad Decline of Britney Spears and Our Voyeuristic Complicity

Poynter Online - The Sad Decline of Britney Spears and Our Voyeuristic Complicity

Ok, so it made me feel a little bit guilty... He's right.

Wednesday, January 09, 2008

Where it's at for a Seven Year Old


My imaginary house would have every Star Wars toy, sorted by name, especially Luke Skywalker.

Every closet would be full. I would play with my brother, Nathan, to defeat the Galactic Empire. Four shock troops would always be on duty, to shock the bad guys. Best of all, my own bedroom would have lots of Star Wars decorations, even on the walls.

If you're a boy, you'll love a sleep over!