One two-hundred dollar hair-do later (Mrs. Clinton? I’m sorry, Senator, I do not recall that…) and still having refrained from Want-to-Put-My-Brain-to-Sleep drinking, am feeling well-rested and healthy, if not one step closer to glamorous.
Am only missing dark sunglasses and four-hundred dollar shoes.

Spent leisurely dinner with GalPal, eating entire contents of one Italian Restaurant’s galley, and discussing current J situation and Fishy pathetic, irrational need to cling to said debilitated fuckwit. Only result was frustrating poor GalPal. Will have to sit and think up better explanations to satisfy concerned friends. Or self.
Indeed

Strange holiday, Halloween.

Lovely though, as is Pagan holiday and do not have to remember anything significant or feel guilty for having not remembered said significance during rest of selfish year. Indeed. Guiltless holidays are too few.

Do not work in office where costuming is appropriate, and yet one of Higher Ups/Closet Sexual Predators brought in box full of plastic animal noses. Yours truly was handed elephant trunk with wink from suddenly holiday-friendly HU/CSP. Mmm… thanks? Think will stick with plastic spider rings and consuming large amounts of v. tiny chocolate bars as way of celebrating beloved holiday.

Spoke with UMF and NACF last night. Was difficult conversation. Father said how proud he was of yours truly. Now, am not completely heartless and found self feeling v. terrible for having been so hard on the man.

H: Did you hear that?!
NACF: Yeah, who was that?
H: Some strange man on the street. He said, “I’d call ya, too, baby!” You weren’t even here to give him a dirty look for me.
NACF: Oh, I think you can take care of yourself. You know I’m proud of you, kiddo.
H: Thanks, Daddy.

And UMF was in rare form… excited, in June Cleaver kind of way, about making special dinner for Smart Assed Sibling and friend who would be coming home at any time.

UMF: And how are you, honey? Anything new? Any plans for the weekend?
H: It’s all just swell, Ma! Wally, Lumpy and I are going to go play stickball with Eddie Haskell. It’s just keen. I’m Fine. Not much new. Heading to New York tomorrow night.
UMF: I’m glad I asked then!
H: Why’s that? And stop sounding so chipper, for God’s sake.
UMF: Oh, in case I needed to call you and you weren’t at home.
H: Mmm hmmm. I’m not at home now and we’re talking. The cell-phone miracle! Praise Jesus!
UMF: Anyway, your sister wants to go to New York for Thanksgiving and she’s just being so difficult and… here we go again… blah blah blah.
H: Hey, I’m getting on a bus now, so it’s going to be noisy. I’ll talk to you later?

6:00-6:45 Three fifteen-minute blocks passed in hitting snooze button wondering why had stayed up so late on a school night. Got icecream cones, stood in freezing cold and went to see v. dark, but v. good movie with roommate. Called in late yesterday… had to get up finally.

6:45-7:00 Shower. Not long enough or hot enough. To shave or not to shave? What’s the point? Yesterday was easier.

7:00-7:15 Oatmeal (am out of slimfast shakes) and playing fetch with Reluctant Kitten. Ok, is not really fetch, as yours truly does the throwing and retrieving while RK pounces dramatically and makes game look more exciting. Heard roommate get up and go to shower so put on new, appropriate-for-break-up CD on stereo and turned up volume to not quite appropriate for morning hours level. And the neighbors? Forget them. Responsible folks are all up anyway.

7:15-7:45 Black dress, black shoes, black pantyhose. Am fairly certain Mr.-Edwards-Went-to-Architecture-School will make his standard Morticia Addams comments. Am v. sorry, but all my flannel shirts and dirty jeans were busy today. Can’t leave hair down. The whole Morticia thing.

7:45-8:30 In transit. Please stop looking at legs, strange boy. Hmmm… strange yes, but also cute. Alright. Proceed. Am glad decided to shave legs after all. Song in headphones feeling v. familiar

Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself,
and hidden in the public eye.
Such a stellar monument to loneliness.
Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes
and perfect makeup
but you’re barely scraping by

8:30-10:00 How many is that? A bazillion fifteen minute periods? Spent ‘breaking up’ with Js roommate. While refraining from criticizing best friend, says am worth more than Js proverbial shit. Indeed. Also offered to meet in cereal aisle at supermarket — recurring inside joke about sex in public places. Thanks, B. How about another limerick?

Am looking forward to Big City weekend. No drinking, no over-eating, no nothing that would make self feel worse than currently do. Long walks outside with supportive GalPal, cold air on face without makeup. Not usual fishy therapy session. Which is why am certain will be beneficial. Changing things up. Making plans. Without J. Changing things up. Indeed.

Decided have been working too much.

First clue was Mountain O’ Laundry in bedroom. Have had to discourage passing climbing enthusiasts from attempting to reach her summit. Would not want anyone to get hurt. After calling in and leaving v. vague message for boss, spent morning in v. soft pink pajamas going about getting-ready ritual in extremely lazy fashion. Put on nearly-as-comfortable, yet suitable-for-work pants and thick turtleneck sweater and lugged parts of Mt. Fish to laundromat.
Concerned Roommate said that had survived worst of J fiasco.

H: Worst? How can that have been the worst? See, from where I stand (throwing Js fleece mourning shroud into industrial size dryer), the worst part is going to be waking up every morning and trying to come up with a reason to get out of bed.
CR: That’s recovery.
H: Well, fuck recovery. Saturday night was like ripping off a band-aid. This is…
CR: I know.

Thing is, am v. well aware that CR knows of which she speaks. And was pleasantly surprised to wake this morning with gnawing achy feeling in stomach temporarily absent. Feel good for the moment. But am taking day in 15 minute intervals. Is bizarre carnival ride. Am fighting any inclinations to climb back into bed and spend day in coma. Alarmed self by passing entire weekend in said manner. Am so far succeeding and debating about whether to shirk work duties over weekend and head to city for much needed GalPal time. Might be just the thing. Grouchy employer couldn’t begrudge yours truly time off to have decent mental breakdown. Indeed

Have just had first out-of-body experience…in coffee room.

Was stirring sorry-excuse-for-hot-chocolate into foamy lather when in walked D, coworker/ex-boyfriend (mmm hmmm — Fish is, indeed, well versed in the uncomfortable and extremely bizarre dating situations). Must have looked at him strangely, am sure. Felt v. strongly compelled to forget that absolutely loathe the man and imagined, quite clearly, throwing self into arms and burying face in v. nice wool sweater.

Is same D who used to say that yours truly was incapable of loving someone else; that was most selfish and unfeeling girlfriend, handicapped when it came to sharing anything real. Wanted to clutch at sweater and yell, “See?! This is what happens! I believed you and you were wrong! Now look at me!” Instead, suffered through the “How’s the family” questions and escaped with hot chocolate.

J did call back last night. Ended up staring at cell phone in disbelief once again.

J: Hey.
H: Hi.
J: blah blah blah… got new fish in saltwater tank… blah blah… helped bass player move… huge king sized bed… blah blah
H: About Friday night… I’m sorry that I came so unglued.
J: Don’t be.
H: But…there are a lot of blanks for me. It’s embarrassing, but I don’t remember what happened between leaving A’s neighborhood and getting to my house.
J: (sounding v. surprised) Really? You couldn’t walk… I had to carry you up the stairs. You were really drunk; couldn’t even stand up.
H: That’s not because I was drunk. That’s because I was crying. V. long silence.
J: You’re really embarrassed, aren’t you?
H: Mortified.
J: Don’t be. It’s all fine. Let’s not have things get weird. Listen, you around later this week? (uh, huh) Let’s get together. I’ll email you tomorrow.

Of course J doesn’t want it to be weird. J has it v. easy if yours truly simply lets go of humiliation and things go back to where have always been in Land of Everything Remains Unspoken. Am not v. good at being mad. But now, am feeling little bit angry and am not quite certain what to do with said emotion. J crossed line that had kept happily unblurred for so long… line that existed to keep us in safety zone, the crossing of which resulted in complete and utter breakdown for Fish. Want v. much for J to apologize. For starting v. steamy car escapade. For causing Fish crawl from car to stand on v. cold sidewalk, sobbing into mittens. And then, for watching as she, in utter shame, stands there sobbing, trying to pull suddenly-insufficient black, lacy bra back into place with same cold, soggy mittens. Yes. Want him to be sorry. Want him to be sorry and shameful and embarrassed and exposed, and standing on sidewalk, drunk and cold, without any idea of what to think or feel.

God damn him.

Finally swallowed pride, fear and throat full of burning bile and called J.

J: Hey.
H: Hi. Um… you ok? You sound funny.
J: Yeah, I’ve just been sleeping.
H: Oh, well, we can do this later.
J: Okay.
H: Okay? (Are you fucking serious? I’ve been bouncing between dry heaving, despondent crying and coma-like sleeping for the last 48 hours and you’re seriously going to go back to sleep?)
J: Talk to you later.

Am still staring at cell phone in disbelief. Have tried cleaning room, watching television and taking walk. Want more than anything to call sister… but as she is off in wilderness rehabilitating large mammals, and therefore unreachable by phone, will have to resort to other methods of therapy. Perhaps hot bath. And two or three Tylenol PM.

Oh God. What have I done?

Spent evening in v. crowded bar, being pinball bounced off Js friends and coworkers, downing pretty-colored cocktails and flirting with nice smelling boys. J was perfect, making introductions, even being v. affectionate. Was as close to perfection as could have asked for. As was v. drunk, J took my hand and somehow, though don’t remember getting there, ended up in a cab and back where J had parked his car. Was laughing and enjoying v. on-top-of-world drunk feeling when somehow ended up on receiving end of J kiss. Had missed that so much that didn’t let self think about how horrible of a mistake it was. Until,

J: What are you thinking?
H: Two things.
J: (laughing between kisses) What two things?
H: That I’ve missed kissing you. And,
J: And?
H: And that I don’t want to be your Fucking Accident.
J: Ouch.

And that ended that. J sat back and suddenly looked v. serious. Didn’t feel it yet, but on-top-of-world drunk feeling was slipping into panicky must-get-out-of-car-and-breathe feeling. What goes up, must come down. Yours truly is no exception, clearly.

J: I love you.
H: I know you do.
J: I am so sorry that I don’t love you.
H: I know that, too. (starting to cry)
J: Please don’t cry. I’ve never seen you cry…
H: I’m drunk. I can’t help it. Just please don’t feel bad. This isn’t your fault. And please don’t say you’re sorry for not wanting me. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.
J: I don’t. I swear. I know I’ll probably never find anyone who loves me as much as you do.

By this time, was not only crying, was sobbing and had to get out of car and lean against chain-link fence. Is all v. fuzzy, but do think there were other people out on sidewalk across street. Am hoping never to run into them. Ever. Also do not remember all of what was said, except parts here and there, begging J not to feel sorry.

H: I’m so embarrassed… (wiping face with mittens)
J: Don’t be! This is the most real we’ve ever been. I am so sorry.
H: But I chose this. Back when we just kind of dissolved… I chose to keep you as a friend instead of giving you up altogether. I tried to be the friend that you needed. I really only ever wanted you to be happy.
J: (looking as though had kicked him in the balls) I love you.
H: I know. But this is not going to end well. It can’t.

Do not remember much more after that, except know v. well that told J everything that had ever thought. May as well have given him this entire site to read. Don’t remember getting home except for J helping to take off my boots and making me promise to call him. Spent next few hours throwing up not-so-pretty cocktails and woke with massive hangover. Spent afternoon recovering with soda and toast, and periodic bursts of crying. Needed to call someone, but then realized that did not have anyone to call. Cried some more. Never did call J. Am consumed with enormous hopeless feeling that am not quite certain what to do with. Am afraid that must give J up altogether. Will only be more of the same if do not. But feel dark, empty hole when think about not seeing him. Is most miserable situation without satisfactory solution. Roommate says is most healthy thing that has happened between self and J. Don’t feel healthy though. Feel lost. And alone. And v. v. tired.

Am so exhausted! By Wednesday had already put in my 40 hours and it will be sheer luck if have not alienated all loved ones by the time week is up.

Went to Finally Complete Band practice again last night and finally met new lead singer. V. cute. Do so love going to band practice as am only girl in middle of hyped up, super charged, super talented men who incidentally, like to flirt. As only girl, role consists of sitting cross-legged on chair in v. cold practice space, winking at said musicians and saying things like, “I think track four should come after the ballad.” To which will get response, “Listen to the girl, A. Someone’s paying attention.” Indeed. Am always paying attention.

Am wearing slightly-too small jeans today, and are not too small in the least. Amazing invention, crash dieting. Ok, realize is not smart, but well, don’t care. Is of some satisfaction when R, friend of Concerned Roommate says that fish has the perfect figure (obviously not a boob girl) or when J says my ass is a ‘distraction.’ Don’t mind being a distraction! But am having M&Ms this afternoon. Try to stop me.

Fish’s Freak Out Diet update:

4 down. 6 to go. Not bad, must say. Will reward myself with something pretty.
Am missing my M&Ms, though.

Long bus rides to office with same CD in discman result in feeling like broody, badly mixed cocktail of country music. One song for pining, one for complete misery, and cannot forget the one song that is melodic Fuck-You to men. Cannot decide which one to feel sympathetic with. Not surprising, though, as cannot hardly find presence of mind to decide what to wear. Had v. compelling conversation with J yesterday, in which surprised self by getting foggy-eyed at work.

H: It just occurred to me that it’s gonna be pretty stinky when one of us starts dating someone we like for more than three weeks at at time. I’m not going to like being replaced as ‘the girl’ and I’m probably going to hate her for a while. And I’d miss all the stuff we do. It’s unavoidable, though… one of the hazards of being us in our bizarre situation, I guess.
J: I hear you. But any girl I date or, any guy you date is just going to have to share. And if it’s a problem with them, then they are a problem with me.
H: Though, explaining our mysterious lunch dates might become a problem. (per continuing inside joke about meeting for lunchtime quickies)
J: ‘Why are you always so happy after lunch?‘ Um, I don’t know….. (head bobbing from side to side).

Had heart-stopping moment on bus, mid ultra despondent ballad, that realized have indeed, at least temporarily, lost optimism. Perhaps somewhere in huge laundry pile growing on bedroom floor. Felt, for first time in entire romantic life, that am done with love. That there is no one and will never find bicycle suitable to replace one for which had such profound feelings. Had teacher in high school with whom was v. close. She confided once that her husband was not the man she had loved most. She had a soulmate. Teacher and soulmate did not marry. When asked why, teacher simply shrugged.

somebody tell my head to try and tell my heart
that i’m better off without you
’cause, baby I can’t live…

Is not going to end well, Concerned Roommate says. Do realize this. Have been trying to replace J since first time we parted. Even after the first round of getting back togethers. Now, am thinking is pointless. Was invited to dinner by v. cute foreign fellow at work. Thanks, but no thanks. Has even appealed to v. essence of Fish and asked if would like to go shopping at lunch. Is v. persistent bicycle. Funny, though. Thought he was gay.

hole in my head
hole in my head
i need a boy like you
like a hole in my head

Still feel strange residue of bus-ride pessimism that can’t seem to shake. Hopefully, won’t last long. Am certain is phase and this fish will not be able to sit bench long before time-out period of mourning ends, and feel inclined to jump back into same, horrifying tournament of love.

let the games begin
here i go again
i’m never gonna win….

depressing lyrics courtesy of dixie chicks album, Fly.

Update: According to sisterly sources, threat of Congestive Heart Failure less than minimal. Non-existent. NACF hospitalized for pneumonia (though, is not much relief). The UMF is at it again. Am inclined to think she would cease to exist should she be unable to wield the powers of drama and guilt. Like witch without ruby slippers. Powerless and frustrated with bunch of flying primates in funny costumes. Am v. glad is no place like home.

Saw v. scary movie with J last night. Note: Am not allowed, by many friends, to watch scary movies. Either end up crying (overdeveloped sense of compassion for frightened characters), or hiding face. But was Js suggestion as perfect antidote to UMF-induced stress. Spent last ten minutes of film clinging to Js hand, unable to move in seat, muttering things like, “No! Fuck, no! Oh. My. God.”

J: You did good!
H: At least I kept my eyes open this time.
J: And you didn’t cry!
H: I didn’t cry. I almost did though.
J: You did good.

Went back to Js house where we bleached streaks in his v. black hair — for purpose of dyeing said streaks midnight blue (to go with Js new, rock star image). While bleach was busy sucking beautiful color from his hair, went over Js finances and made budget for paying off rock star credit card bills. Yours truly sat busy at the computer making list of checks to be written while the rock star wandered in and out of the kitchen and living room in v. ADHD fashion, making pasta, watching Howard Stern and periodically sitting down at dining room table to say things like, “Is it bad?”

Had always thought J brought home much more bacon than self. Is not so. Simply spends as if he does. Am in possession of nicely padded savings account and J… well, J is J. Fiscal Responsibility seems just another word that makes him feel old. Roommates of J teased that was his accountant. Or wife. Felt more wife-like than accountant at the moment. Except for tax bracket changes, exchanged gold bands and well, other obvious benefits. Funny, never pictured self in sexless marriage. Found self repeating, Have not become my mother. Have not become my mother.

After two weeks and one day, the phone rang and was v. surprised to hear the UMFs voice on other end. And surprised self by being glad to hear it.

UMF: Hi, honey. How are you?
H: Um, fine. What’s going on?
UMF: (Following usual ‘the kids never clean up’ complaints) Oh, well, I’ve been in a lot of pain. I hurt my back. I didn’t want to tell you because you always say how fragile I am and I didn’t want you to make fun of me.
H: Are you ok?
UMF: Oh, well I just haven’t had much time to take care of myself, with your dad being sick. But they released him today. You knew he was in the hospital, of course.
H: Um, no. I did not. And if you say “oh, well” one more time…
UMF: Oh, well… I thought you were at least talking to your sisters.
H: No one told me.
UMF: They probably don’t care…

Am horrible, horrible, selfish daughter. Seems doctors are bouncing between diagnoses of Congestive Heart Failure and Pneumonia. Am now rethinking Declaration of Emotional Independence and selfish resolve to decline Christmas visit to House that Crazy Built. After hung up phone, was banished to hot bath by Concerned Roommate.

CR: Are you sure you’re ok? I wish I had some chocolate to give you.
H: I’m fine. Chocolate’s against the rules anyway. Thanks, though.

Sat in bath til water was cold and toes resembled dried fruit. Climbed into bed, cajoled Reluctant Kitten into joining and was asleep by 10:30. Woke every hour. Guilt is stronger than caffeine pills, would seem.

Spent lunch break buying new pair of jeans slightly too small.

Is all part of Fish’s Freak Out Diet. V. cute jeans providing much needed motivation. Am quite certain is part of some hormonal short circuit, but have also let self get away with consumption of too many food products, paired by hours on tush watching rerun tapes of Sex and the City. Resulting in Unhappy To Be Me Fish. Must drop ten pounds immediately or will fall into previous winter-is-coming rut and start storing caloric reserves like some hibernation-ready she-bear with enormous attitude problem. Not pretty.

Have also quit M&Ms. Am v. brave, must say. After entire year of pack-a-day habit, have quit…at least until v. cute, slightly too small jeans fit nicely on fishy hips, that is.

B, roommate of J, sent following limerick to yours truly this afternoon. Have not quit laughing.

I promise that you are not obese.
Your jeans still fit, without grease.
What? I think that’s fly!!
Heck, I’ll even try…
And say, I think that I’d want a piece!!!

God love ‘im. Nothin’ like a classy invitation to sex to make a gal get over her current body-image issues! Must say, did brighten dull afternoon. Indeed.

Feeling much more… stable today.

Today makes nearly two weeks that have not heard from the UMF. V. unexpected result of Manifesto. Is eerily quiet on homefront, though do periodically receive insanity reports from sisters still living in the House the Crazy Built. Will be v. pleasantly surprised if sisters make it out of teens without needing lots of therapy. Am not going to be surprised when all of the siblings publish My Parents Were Crazy and This is How I Survived books before the decade is out.

Strange Party Conversation (having nothing to do with anything, but struck funny chord)

J: (Handing fish jacket, as was v. cold outside) Here, found it. Oh, and I brought you some pizza…
H: Oooh, thanks! (stifling yawn)
J: You gettin’ tired? I think you need…another drink. Can I make you another one? Raspberry and sprite?
H: Yeah, sure… I’ll let ya do that!
Boy #1: He’s sure ass-whipped.
H: It’s nothing like that. He just knows who the bitch is in the friendship, that’s all.
Boy #1: Is that friendship in quotation marks?
H: No, and you’re nosy.
Boy #2: I’m sure you have to do something to get him to wait on you like that…(grinning)
Boy #1: Yeah, heh heh.
H: No, I don’t have to DO anything. He’s not my fuck buddy.
Boy #3: Do you have one? A fuck buddy?
H: No. And I’m not currently taking applications.
J: (Returning with drink). Sorry, they’re out of lime.
H: Don’t be. Thanks so much. Should we go inside? It’s cold out here. Assholes.

What is the point of making the lid so fucking difficult to pry off when the express purpose of medication in bottle with said fucking lid is to put self out of pain-induced, frenzied misery that renders one unable to perform certain mundane tasks such as leaving fetal position on sofa, behaving civilly, opening childproof containers and refraining from writing horrendously long, run-on sentences??? My GOD!

Sigh.

Is v. good to be a woman.

Have just returned from v. interesting party.

Was interesting because of guest list. As was invited as guest of J to party thrown by random coworker, in attendance were A (v. nice) and The Other Woman, aka Whoring Coworker (ahem). Will concede, yes, fine, the OW/WC was cute. Blonde, thin, perky. Felt like melting into beer-stained carpet for second. Could not compete with blonde, thin (though must say, have nicer stomach than one WC was flaunting) and perky. But then thought, Who’s competing? Spent rest of evening being v. charming with A.

A brought up Friday’s flirty email conversation which cleverly set theme for rest of night. But, sadly, have come to conclusion that though delightful and devilishly cute, and would not mind testing out nice lips, could never date A. Why not, picky fish? Well for starters, would have to dress A. Is really not so much of a problem as am v. experienced shopper, but really, do not need a second job. And also, found self much more interested conversing with A’s perhaps less attractive but more clever brother, D. Perhaps am finally leaving Man-Child Musician Phase. And, perhaps not.

In all fairness, D was not unattractive. Nor even less attractive than A. Just less… Never Going to Grow Up and Have A Real Job looking. Find something about a man who is not consumed by dodging reality v. unsettling.

Will put self to bed before get too many new ideas and change Self-Destructive Man habits altogether. Would hate to awake unrecognizable fish.

At work today.

And am not v. happy about it. Am fairly certain is nothing sacred left in the world when forced to spend lovely fall day at work bent over copy machine saying v. bad words.

Have noticed that said copy machine does not respond well to threats.

How fitting.

How v. fitting and how v. definitive.

Was suggesting to J that since he is in v. bad mood, he should go home and watch co-favorite movie. J loves that movie. Can’t get enough of that movie. Was completely taken aback when response came:

Nah. I need a break from that flick. I need to buy some new ones.

Um… WHAT? Who knew silly movie would become v. fitting relationship metaphor? Indeed! Would go stick head in oven, but am waiting for email response from A. Has been v. busy day for Fish.

In game of winning and even breaking hearts, beauty is not requirement some think it to be. No indeed. Is helpful, certainly. But are many more important factors. In securing attentions of bicycle, one must do some combination of the following:

laugh in charming way
(Tossing head back while doing so, as though what bicycle has said is funniest thing have ever heard, is quite effective. As is putting hand shyly to mouth when laughing. Depends on if going for brazen starlet or fading violet approach. Am prone to play up brazen as requires less acting.)

touch bicycle on arm, chest or elbow
(Do so in manner that suggests, “Oh, this is casual touch, but because you are most desirable bicycle on planet — many already assume they are — it could mean more.”)

behave as though bicycle is lucky to receive any attention at all
(They do so love to feel lucky, and you must appear desirable. This is perhaps most difficult of techniques to master. Do not over do.)

wink
(Do this as though were compulsive and quite by accident.)

do not mean more than half of anything you say
(No one likes the whole truth anyway.)

Used the above behavior on S for v. long time in sort of cat and mouse game. Must be noted that had NO interest in dating S as was v. undeserving bicycle. But, lavished attention on yours truly, and well, sometimes a nice girl can do not nice things. Like toy with silly boys. Said game lasted well over year before finally giving in and finding bicycle had worn v. soft spot into fish’s heart.
Dated S for brief amount of time, in which stopped playing silly game. Reward came swiftly.**

Was out with S and group of friends at local bar, got silly drunk and was escorted home by kind, common friend. V. cute brunette was escorted home by S. To his bed.

Smelled her on his leather jacket the next day.

** Above results not guaranteed.

Please note ironic and sarcastic tone. Am much humbler fish these days.

Last night, remembered kissing Collin.
(Feel is not inappropriate to mention entire name as will never see or speak to said bicycle again.)

Met C at all-night, outdoor fall festival in college and was immediately one of those impulsive, ‘can’t keep hands and flirtatious innuendo to self’ attractions. Would have been fine, except that C was at said festival as blind date of fish’s roommate. Indeed. Bad fish. But C was model-like gorgeous (have never seen more perfect teeth). And would had to have been a saint to resist such adorability. And besides, roommate didn’t seem to notice not-so-innocent flirting. Was challenged by C to Sumo Wrestling Event and so put on v. funny, padded outfits and wrestled (rather ungracefully) until were lying on ground with C on top, laughing and sucking v. cold fall air. Flirted with such brazen intensity that was certain was going to start fire from heat between us. At one point, remember C saying, “We can’t do this. I’m here with your roommate.” Bah. Roommate schroommate. She was oblivious.

Night of fun fall festival ended and did not see C again for several months. As had no interest in shy roommate, C did not call her again and well, did not call yours truly either. Was for the best.

Then, was v. surprised to get call from C during Christmas holiday (had not gone home that year). Dressed quickly in amazing sweater borrowed from previously mentioned roommate, and met C at theater. Barely made it out of cheesy teen flick with all clothing items still in appropriate places. C was intoxicating, but as turns out, a genuine asshole. Did not pay for movie, did not offer to drive, did NOT buy fish M&Ms and cherry coke. Indeed. Walked out to parking lot, kinetic energy making sparky sounds in wooly winter coat. And when got to cars, C was breathy and lovely. Even somewhat sinister And God, did he smell good. V. grrrr indeed.

C: Want to follow me back to our place? M. is at his parents’ this weekend.
At this point, leaned in and kissed that most beautiful mouth, full of most beautiful, perfect teeth and pink tongue. Was electric, compelling and irresistible. And taking cue from said feeling, stepped back.
H: I don’t think so.

Leaving C standing outside in foggy air (had just started to snow), got in car and drove away from perhaps most amazing night of possibility. Left hot kisses and cold snowflakes. But left with same dignity with which had arrived. This fish likes her M&Ms.

The Fish. Makin’ ya work for it since 1999.

After all magnanimous talk about working things out and being understanding, the UMF and NACF were not under same roof more than 24 hours before patience and understanding dissolved. Is true what they say about old dogs and new tricks. Am receiving detailed reports through Smart-Assed Sibling, as have not heard from UMF since was brazen enough to send Declaration of Emotional Independence last week. Is for best, am sure.

(Though does feel strange to get silent treatment from woman who feels need to verbalize everything from opinions on world crises to current status of intestinal discomfort. Is the Queen Mother of Too Much Information, that one.)

NACF: That woman…something inaudible… always telling me what to do… more grumbling.
SAS: Uh, I’ll be waiting in the car.

After several-month long literal absence, and even longer sporadic departures due to work travel, the UMF is now reinstating, with Nazi-like grace, family rules that have long been replaced by war-time martial law. SAS, in true smart-ass fashion, has been balking under orders to be home for dinner and not all at amused with UMF’s attempts to restore order.

UMF: A, will you say the blessing?
SAS: What? We pray now at dinner?

Can only imagine kind of reaction received for that little outburst.

H: So, what gourmet meal did the UMF drag you home for?
SAS: Macaroni and cheese.
H: (laughing so hard stomach hurt). Good to know some things never really change.

In celebration of wonderous blogging milestone (fishblog turned over 5,000 on the blog-o-meter today) have decided to make a brief I’ve Never list. See below:

1. As far as am aware, have never dated a man capable of writing correct version of the homophone: you’re/your.
2. Have never been sent flowers. Really, there is no justice.
3. Before last night, had never resorted to baking simply to raise temperature in house above freezing.
4. Have never been mistaken for member of Jackson Five.
5. Have never mastered use of chopsticks.
6. Per gag reflexes, have never had more than a sip of beer.
7. Have never had relationship that did not break up for Christmas. Cheap?
8. Have never been struck by lightning.
9. Outside of work, have never been referred to as “cheerleader type.”
10. Have never been able to successfully use can opener without aid.

will you take me as i am,
strung out on another man?

Changed sleeping situation again, in hopes of appealing to better bed karma. Perhaps should buy book on feng shui.

Ok, really moved bed in attempt to distance sleeping space from drafty window. Landlord has yet to turn heat on and am finding that small heat produced by RK not enough to keep out chill. Must find bicycle to install plastic sheeting on windows. Would do it by self, but well, am going for Damsel in Distress look these days. Found it goes better with fair complexion.

Had v. strange e-conversation with ex-romantic interest last night. Had brief (V. brief) dating relationship with L over year and a half ago. L was disaster in dating sense, and ended up tossing whole thing curbside as behavior was juvenile, but have remained casual acquaintances. As such, he came seeking unbiased opinion, which was happy to give.

L: This just reminds me what a decent person you really are.
H: Aw, thanks.
L: It makes me regret our past.
H: It’s ok..
L: No, it’s not. I am not proud of a lot of things I’ve done socially over the last couple years.
H: Don’t worry about it.
L: I really fucked up.
H: Some fuck-ups are for the best.

Indeed. Without said fuck up, would never have ended up with J, gone stark raving mad, and one hundred and fifty people would have to find something else to read about everyday. Really was fortunate that L was terrible with women (and terrible kisser). Fortunate, indeed.

Had most perfect weekend away.

Too-Thin Blonde rented cabin in v. cold and v. beautiful mountains. Spent two days/nights next to fireplace doing nothing but eating, drinking and laughing. Oh, and, also did leave cabin for four hour, straight-up-mountain hike. Amazing. Said hike was fairly difficult (even more so for the smokers among group) but beautiful — have never seen so many different colored leaves. Summit of mountain was only four degrees above freezing and am fairly certain at four thousand feet, was closest have been to having head in clouds (in literal sense). Have also not laughed as much in v. long time. Was probably most perfect day have spent in a v. long time.

Sleeping arrangements were not as uncomfortable as had anticipated. Did share bed with J, but was no dreadful, drawing-line-down-center-of-bed weirdness. Though, did feel a bit strange waking up in middle of night and noticing had unintentionally become “little spoon” somehow. And although are trying to keep friendship lines free from blurry, ambiguous behavior (such as spooning), did not move. Was v. cold and well, if am being honest, was v. comforting to have warm, broad chest and legs behind own. And boy smell. Even intermittent snoring not such a bad thing.

Sigh.

Must find suitable J-replacement. Do v. much like being “little spoon.”
V. much indeed.

Left the building yesterday, had just put earphones in, when passed Outspoken Street Man.

OSM: Mmm… you got a fiiiiine body.
Indeed. Was not in the mood to be side-walk harassed and did something have never done before. Actually stopped and turned around.
H: I can hear you.
OSM: Well, you got yourself a fine body, miss.
H: But why do you think I want you to tell me about it? What’s wrong with you?
OSM: Mmm hmmm. Fine. You have a nice night.
H: Hmph.

Who let the bitch out? Should have thanked the man as was probably only compliment had received all day. Instead, unleashed Xena Warrior Princess-type fury on harmless yet overly-vocal stranger. Am not proud of self.

Must take anger management classes.

Have finished watching The Way We Were.
Now I understand.

On totally different subject, am getting quite handy at Kitten-Mothering with Much-Missed Roommate being absent. With only one terrifying human to contend with, Reluctant Kitten is now spending much less time beneath bed/couch/table/anything stationary and low-lying. Have learned several, v. important Kitten-Mothering lessons in last week alone:

1) Be satisfied with Reluctant Kitten’s vocal attempts to get Fish out of bed for breakfast. Later attempts will not be as pleasant and will most likely involve pouncing and/or biting.
2) Houseplants are for tearing apart. Is rule of nature not to be messed with.
3) Expensive sweaters make preferred Kitten Toys. Is useless to buy do-dads made specifically for Kitten. Will not be appreciated. Even if contain Catnip.
4) Do not ignore Kitten. See Lesson one (1) about biting.

Have just returned from yet another successful shopping excursion. Folks at Gap would like to thank yours truly personally for keeping them aloft during these economically difficult times. No sweat. My pleasure.