Chello bloggers and blog-ettes I’m back with a little ditty I like to call the Week in Review.
When last we spoke I was battling Hurricane Spaniard. A surly storm that arrived on my shores a few months shy of two years ago. Sad as I am to say it burdens me still. As soon as I think I’ve out maneuvered the storm it loops the corner and hails all over my parade. In this case the Summer O’ Men…causing it to end just as abruptly as it started.
I agreed to have lunch with the Spaniard. After Wander made the waterworks the other week I felt I owed him and largely myself to put whatever we have to bed. Well much like fighting a pre-pubescent boy to shower and a toddler to sleep resolving our hashish wasn’t getting done over one lunch. We met at this quaint French spot that sells the most amazing crepes on 6th and Bainbridge. I can’t remember the name but it matters not.
Over a few savory and sweet crepes we discussed the relationship. A lot of our problems revolve around communication. In addition to him thinking I know exactly what’s going on in his head he has an issue with apologizing. Stubborn much! And granted I’m probably the most arrogant, unapologetically sarcastic person one will ever meet but for folks close to my heart I push those character flaws to the side, most of the time. I recounted the late for the train station incident where I got my ass chewed out by a banshee aka Spaz Manager. And still he didn’t offer an apology. Just coughed up an excuse, he confused the times. If assault weren’t against the law I would have hit him with my glass of water. He’s an asshole, sometimes! We parted ways that day with a hug and peck on the cheek.
Side note: When this man touches me I feel electricity run through my core…this cannot be a good thing.
Since we weren’t together I didn’t expect a gift for my birthday. Actually we’ve been conveniently unattached when my birthday rolls around. In any event I spent the early part of the day with Wander, Pudding Pop and Granny SJ. In the evening Wander took me shopping and I headed home relatively early, 10ish. Around 12 I get a text message from The Spaniard asking me to come downstairs. My first mind said to go downstairs and see what he wants but my second mind said total bad idea. Of course my first mind won this battle and I took the trip down the interior stairs of my apartment and was greeted by 5 or more bouquets of flowers, mostly lilies. Sometimes he’s not an asshole!
I was proud of myself that night because despite raging hormones amongst other things I kept my resolve and sent him on his way with nothing more than a Spank You kindly and a peck on the cheek….ok the lips but you get the point. I left most of the flowers on the doorstep. What was I going to do with 5 bouquets of flowers in my apartment?
After sharing the birthday flowers story with some of my close friends they were all somewhat surprised I didn’t give in. And The Best Friend, always a Spaniard supported was her usual self and told me I was dumb for not blurring the boundaries and taking a short ride on the ho train. Of course sex does not love make, so sometimes her advice is to be taken with a grain of salt.
But I digress.
Pretty Skin faded to the land of obscurity, also known as Never-Never land. By no fault of his own, well maybe a little, but with work and my see-saw appetite for The Spaniard I didn’t have the stomach to digest anymore of PS’ references to me as a man or his otherwise lack of genuine communication skills. I’m sorry I just can’t. Believe me there was no judgment here, I thought and still think some chiquitta will be hella happy to find and refine Pretty Skin. He’s a diamond in need of a little elbow grease.
PS did surface briefly this weekend. I quipped that I hadn’t been discarded to the do not call list. And his response was no but if you think it didn’t contain a man reference you’d be wrong. Ugh! Anywho I asked out of pure curiosity what he was up to this weekend. He responded that he had his daughter Saturday but would be free later in the evening. Clearly my conversation politeness was misconstrued. I told him that I had belated birthday plans with my cousin but I hope he enjoyed his weekend.
Was that rude of me?
Mailroom Boy to my utter surprise crawled from under his you got to be kidding me rock with a happy birthday salute. And believe it or not he was only about two days late despite having a phone reminder. His words not mine. Being late to everything but work is part of his je ne sais quoi…not. I was touched, don’t remember his birthday but that’s beside the point. Once I check out I check out, not that we had anything serious…please check the $14 incident that broke the camel’s back.
Since that time he’s been texting me on the regular. He even sideways mentioned that his daughter asked about me and she never asks about his friends. Hmm, I’m still not interested but am rather impressed that he’s getting his hashish together. Last we spoke Mailroom Boy was living in his aunt’s house, carless and working in the mailroom because it was easy. Now he’s taking classes to get his degree, driving his own car and living by himself. Not too shabby if I do say so myself.
Even Jon B. jumped back on stage for a small cameo in this show I call my life. I cancelled his performance before it could even start though. After the traditional how have you been what have you been up to chatter he asked if I ‘d like to come by on Sunday to “catch up.” Is that what the kool kids call it these days? Considering we’ve only known each other for roughly three months time and about a month of it we had no real communication I’m not sure we have any catching up to do. I mean in my book catching up is reserved for friends you’ve known for years but speak to infrequently because of schedules or proximity of course I could be wrong. Clearly his Kangol is too tight. I told him it was doubtful I’d be stopping by to “catch up.”
I’m seriously considering chucking up the deuces. I think Chris Breezy may have been onto something…all the bullshits for the birds…you judge it!
5 Pardon My French:
Man, it's *always* a treat to read a post of yours. It was hard to pick a fav this time, but I'm going with:
Even Jon B. jumped back on stage for a small cameo in this show I call my life. I canceled his performance before it could even start though.
I love this sort of follow up post.
Oy, I am not a fan of the Spaniard -- the bit I know of. You know I love you and I am responding to your ambivalence with him. If you end up with him I will continue to love you while furrowing my brows at him.
It is cool that you received a huge bunch o' flowers on your be-day. Happy Belated Birthday!
I thought it was chucking the deuces (toma-toe, tomato) I knew I should have copyrighted that two years ago when Brian was introduced .... gosh.
@CG, I hearts you back CG, seriously! I get the feeling that a lot of my blog family aren't BFF's with the Spaniard. If my mind and my heart could get on the same page these decisions wouldn't be so hard. Unfortunately both are off in different fly zones and I'm having trouble being 100% to either one. A lot of that comes out in my posting. And in the Spaniard's defense he's not all bad all the time but I presume that won't make up for the bridge he's burned with you. I need to work on balancing my posts as to not always point out the negatives. You can tell I'm sort of on a Spaniard high as I write this response...check back later and my answer may be different.
@Diva, note the change in post it is chucking the deuces not chalking. I clearly didn't proof read. Sidenote, where the frig have you been, like i have the right to ask these types of questions. Good to see/hear from you!
On and yeah you needed to copyright, C-Breezy is walking your checks to the bank!
Awesome post!
Thanks a lot for the post.
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