Weird/Good

This weird/good thing is happening. I'm feeling sort of responsible and funny and nice and not stressed and at peace but still in control...good lord. Either I've become a grown up or the Prozac is finally kicking in.

I don't even care which one, that's how weird/good it feels. 

My life hasn't abruptly changed, nothing spectacular has happened. Unless you count finding the little animated gnome game on Facebook. I started virtual harvesting strawberries and clicking on snails to 'feed' them but other than that...

I saw someone today and it was awkward.  We stopped being around each other suddenly and for tense reasons. I remember last week she called me and I stared at the phone, not able to push reject or accept. I just didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything. I tried calling her back later and couldn't get through-maybe I wasn't supposed to.

Seeing her today was weird but not weird/good.

Getting a phone call that included a smile I heard and an invite out for drinks with the gang was good. Nothing weird about it. Hopefully by the end of aforementioned outing I will have had entirely too much to drink.

Had a pretty intense conversation with the ex recently. I felt like I got some closure and that we both got a chance to tell each other things we needed to. It's hard to reach those kinds of conclusions, harder still to admit you need to after a significant amount of time. I noticed we actually communicated better over the computer than we did in the entire year we'd been together with just a smidge of bitterness so that's good.

I went to the local farmer's market today and paid too much for blackberries because the guy selling them was cute. Bought myself a bouquet of flowers in white butcher paper from a small asian woman like you do when you go to farmer's markets too.

I got a song stuck in my head and before I knew what was happening, I was singing aloud, "...what a field day for the heat..." and my coworker came back with "...a thousand people in the street...."   It was one of those little moments when it just feels good to be sharing it.

I had another moment with a different coworker, talking about that wretched commercial currently tainting the airwaves for Old Navy-They took a beloved tribute to safe sex 90's style and turned it into a jingle.

"Let's Talk About JEANS, Baby"

I swear to god it hurt the first time I saw it.

Talking to my coworker, expressing my outrage at such a tragedy he laughed and then said, "Is that from something?"

A little part of me sighed, remembered I was 34, he was 21.

"It's from a song I used to freakin' adore in high school. 'Let's Talk About Sex, Baby', by Salt-N-Pepa."

Deer in headlights stare.

"Really?" I asked, " You've never heard of them?" Another sigh. "Christ I'm old."


"Well I'm sorry if I'm not well versed in the lyrics of the greats like Sat-N-Pepper."

"Oh no," I quickly corrected him.  "Not 'pepper', Pepa."

We both dissolved into giggles and moved on to sling kibble or discuss why dogs eat their own excrement or something along those lines.  21 years old is so young now.

I had a conversation today with a woman about how we will always love books and think a Kindle is a sign of the apocalypse. All hail the leather bound! <---That could be easily misconstrued. I'm leaving it in.

Spoke with someone else about public vs. private school. Her argument had some heat and when I suggested home schooling (she loathes public school but private is sucking her bank account dry) she told me she didn't have time for that and that her child needed special attention.

I retail smiled at her and wished her a good day because that's goes along with kibble slinging and conversations about dog shit. It's one of those weird/good things.

I'm beginning to think the church across the street is really a Mexican restaurant with pretty windows.  The Worshipers are there at least 4 nights a week, and tonight it sounds a little like I'm about to be served burritos. I am all for faith and truly, I don't mind that they are there. I actually think it's kinda neat and when no one is in it worshiping at top volume, it's really rather pretty.

 I had this moment today when I thought about making cookies for my downstairs neighbor. I thought it about it enough to come home, turn the oven on and begin slaving over the package of pre-made dough. I put them all on a sheet and then stopped thinking about it. I burned the cookies a little. I think the right word is 'scorched' as they could have passed for very dark chocolate chip if you squinted. I thought then about giving them to the neighbors anyway. I mean, what are they gonna do, give them back and say no thanks, they're burnt? No way. Nobody wants to be the asshole that criticizes free cookies.

I didn't do it though. Nobody wants to be the asshole that gives burned cookies either. I tossed them in the garbage and shrugged.

Gotta be the Prozac.