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Who gets the kids?

26 Jan

After my last break-up (I guess it’s called the second to last now) I fostered a dog. While I was already on my way to being a-ok, that smushy little face kicked my mood into hyperspeed and, in a way, saved me. Considering his owner had just given him up to move, I felt like I saved him too. In a sense of fate, we were there for each other when we both needed some extra love and a warm body to cuddle with at night. (He used to sleep next to me under the blankets like a person; it was ADORRRRRABLE!)

One my way home the other day thinking about SS’s abrupt good-bye, I said to myself, “I’m so glad I have my kitty at home waiting for me.” And she was waiting for me, ready to play.

However, as I stood there teasing her with her favorite turkey toy, I welled up. Although I had adopted her, the kitty had always felt like “ours.”

I had been wanting a pet. A dog was out of the question, but SS’s love for cats reminded me how much I always adored them growing up. So when my mom found out about an adorable grey and white kitten up for adoption, I was sold. She moved in during the time SS was staying with me, and having never raised a cat on my own before, he was my go-to guy for kitty-proofing, food/litter/toy selection and nail care management.

She wasn’t just mine; she was ours.

The following month when he moved back to the city to recoop, kitty and I joined. I was there to run the errands; she was there to entertain and love. He adored her — she was his “babygirl.”

When I had a dream one night that we broke up, he humorously responded to my fear with “Who got the cat?” I laughed stating clearly that she was mine and he said, “Doesn’t she get a say?”

It might have been a joke, but playing with her the other night with tears in my eyes I couldn’t help but wonder, if it was up to the kitty, who would she choose? He was the perfect playmate, always on the couch with a toy or laser light in hand, but when it came time to snuggle she prefered my armpits and neck. I guess she recognized us for what we were good at — he’s drawn towards external stimulation while I’m a big emotional smush. (Perfect opposites eh?)

When you break-up with someone you are prepared for certain activities, sights, sounds and memories to make your eyes leak. But I wasn’t prepared to miss him because of the cat. Going to bed that night, with her purring on my shoulder, it felt more than ever like someone was missing…

And when she climbed into her travel box the next morning and looked at me I wondered if she was thinking “Can we go see SS?”

“I wish babygirl, I wish!”

FRIENDS!

25 Jan

Being here again reminded me of my NaBloPoMo days. For fun, I headed to the website to check out January’s theme…

by Jolante (flickr)

FRIENDS.

It made me smile as that is exactly what I am grateful for this week. Anytime an emotional obstacle rears its head, it’s your friends that pick you up, distract you and keep you going when you get the sudden urge to stop. I want to say that this “reminded me who my friends are,” but I already know who they are 🙂

Someone said to me yesterday, “now you have time to focus on you and your girlfriends.” Instinctively I started to agree, but stopped myself. “Not really, that was never missing,” I said.

The reclamation of my time and focus usually brings me comfort after a break-up, providing a positive in a dark time. But for the first time I never really gave up my time. It was a combination of not losing focus on myself and my friends, and him never pushing me for it.

Acknowledging this took my positivity down a few notches — this was something that is important to me, and I had just lost it. I had lost someone who offered me something that I needed in coupledom as well as a crutch for moving on.

I am grateful to have had that, even if just for a short time.

It also made me realize that I don’t feel the urge to turn to him for comfort. Having the person you relied on to ease you for so long suddenly disappear from your life tends to be one of the most difficult aspects of breaking up. But I haven’t felt that urge…

I guess my friends are just that good!

THANK YOU ladies!!

Happy Tears

25 Jan

I started this blog last year after stumbling on a couple of blogger’s who were documenting their recent break-ups. I admired the connections and support system they created for themselves, anonymously. I wanted a sense of anonymity (as a writer, I know I am Googled; I don’t want everything showing up), and so, even though I was in a giddy new relationship state of mind, I began Morning Eggs. Sometimes, without realizing it, you create just the thing you are going to need, without knowing why you’ll need it.

And as I am typing this, the perfect example came up. I received a message from one of the blogger’s who inspired Eggs after reading my last post on here.

It read:

Hey there, I just wanted to say, I saw your latest blog, and I’m sorry.

You know I’ve been there with the whole not-having-a-say-in-the-breakup thing. It BLOWS.

Good luck with the rough patch and the tequila drinking and the Ben and Jerry’s phase. You’ve read all my advice, so you don’t even need me to tell it to you all over again. So all I will say are the two things that might make you feel even a teensy bit better: 1. I’m so sorry. 2. You won’t feel shitty forever. Promise.

As I read it, I shed my first tears of the day. They were happy tears for having received such a thoughtful message from someone who doesn’t even know me personally. She could relate and cared enough to say it.

Happy tears are a pretty good start to the day.

My Mix Tape!

25 Jun

Last night as I drove into Manhattan, I put on my favorite iPod playlist, AAA’s Country Mix. As I listened to my favorite song — which also happens to be hers — I thought, “I have no idea who sings this.” And that is the beauty of the playlist.

One day after we both returned to the US, and were attempting to sort out our lives, I received the double CD country music mix in the mail and giggled with glee. I’ve listened to the heartaches and joys of guitar-strumming cowboys (and cowgirls) since high school when my non-stereotypical LI extended family members introduced me to the twang. AAA is from the Midwest so country music runs through her blood. It was a bonding point during our time in England — where country music is close to impossible to find — and she knew how frustrated I was that Latin and cheesy pop radio took over LI’s two token country stations.

The CD’s have the songs and artists listed on the cases but once they made it into my iPod (and I didn’t bother to manually enter that information), they were lost forever. I know a lot of the songs are by artists I am familiar with and have listened to for ages, but to me, it’s all just AAA’s music.

While listening to it last night, I thought, “Awww, she made me a mix tape [CD]. How cute is that?” And then continued to search my brain for other mix tapes I had received. I couldn’t remember a single one. Isn’t that what you do in high-school relationships? Well, apparently not mine. I can honestly say I never received a mix tape from anyone before that. And in the cheesy way girls get about their friendships, it made it all the more special.

Thanks AAA… and Yee-Haw!!

What to say, when all’s ok?

28 May

I’ve been really slacking on the blogging lately. I could blame any number of reasons—busy at work, enjoying the outdoors, trying to disconnect from the internet—and they’d all be somewhat valid. But during an email conversation with FF the other day, another reason popped out of my subconscious and threw itself onto the screen…

I’m in a stable relationship!

At that point in our email conversation, we were discussing her interest in a not-so-available man to which she apologized for “going on” about. I replied—legitimately defensive—“Don’t be sorry; I love analyzing this shit! It’s great blog fodder. You know, now that I’m in a stable relationship, I’m slacking on blog material. You’re helping me here!”

It’s not that I ever blogged about my relationships. Actually, until this year, I intentionally never wrote, mentioned, or commented on anyone who might not be a permanent fixture in my life. It was my thoughts; my life; my blog. But even though you may not speak about the details, when you’re going through emotional upheaval, you tend to have more to say—on any topic!

Either way… I’m happy… life’s good… so I got nothing to blog complain about. But I’ll make sure that doesn’t keep me from posting—there are plenty of exciting things going on in my world…

and if I can find the time, I’ll tell you about all of them!

Oh, and I’M GOING TO PUNTA CANA WITH SS TOMORROW!!!

“Look Marge, Only a Quarter!”

22 May

Today MJay, Triple A and I are holding a yard sale. It is the first yard sale where I’ve held a managerial position — compared to being a spectator. MJay will be moving to the far off land of Connecticut (tear), and needs to clear out some — ok, A LOT — of stuff.

So, for the past few hours I’ve been alternating between sitting in the front of my garage watching my little entrepreneur girl friend, kitted out with a fanny pack and clip board, say good-bye to all her lifelong possessions, demonstrating her Lat Thigh Stepper exercise machine, puppeteer’ing Lampchop and creating an “On the Farm Work-Out” series — so far I’ve recorded Getting Jiggy with C. E. Joe and Fundamentals of Farmland Tap — that was inspired by a pair of overalls MJay gifted me.

I only brought in about $50 — which I’ve allocated to my DR bathing suit fund… gotta try to impress the man — mostly because I feel guilty asking people to give me money for things I am otherwise throwing away. Either way, I got rid of some crap that was inhabiting my space, and MJay’s belongings are flying off the shelves. Well, except the over-priced products.

The customer base has been interesting. For me, the woman below was the highlight.

Our most fashion-forward customer wearing red fish-nets under way-too-tight denim shorts and a way-too-short black t-shirt.

In the end, we are having a blast. It’s all about the fun of spending the day with those you love. As MJay so genuinely put it: “I’m doing it solely for the company… ME and Triple A.”

ME: “Awwww seriously? We could have just hung out you know…”

MJay: “Yeah but actually doing SOMETHING together makes it more of a bonding experience!”

Thanks MJay, you are right. I feel very bonded now!

Sooooo… when does Martini night start?

1 Brit, 3 years of childhood masterbation and 10,000 teens in cowboy boots

19 May

… is what occupied this previous weekend. Now you understand why I haven’t had time to blog?

Last week SS took me to see Ricky Gervais at MSG’s theater. I became a big fan of the over-sized un-PC child during the reign of The Office. (Hence why I hated the American version for so long.) And I think Animals is one of the funniest stand-up routines ever to exist; on the same account, Politics was one of, if not the, worst. My cousin and I saw him perform at the Tribeca Arts Center in 2007 — he warmed up there the night before his MSG debut — and was mucho disappointed. He not only repeated material, but he only repeated partial bits, forcing mid-point anti-climax jokes into punchline position. Not cool.

This time around he was absolutely fab. Hilarious, disgusting and completely OTT… everything you’d expect from the sick Brit. The highlight for me was when he interpreted his childhood Sunday School book, Noah — British religious humour never fails to entertain me to the fullest. He did repeat one bit, but it was about dolphins “effin each other in the head”… a classic.

According to his blog, he seems pleased with his reviews… he writes: Picked up a nice review too. “No one specializes in outrageously bad taste quite as adorably as Ricky Gervais.” The Hollywood Reporter. One for the DVD I think.

Good job Ricky. High Five!!

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I spent Saturday night like any 28-yr-old girl would choose to… among tens of thousands of squealing teeny-boppers, clans of quietly depressed parents and one screeching 28-yr-old 6’5″ man, listening to the teenage goddess of love and heartbreak.

I went to Taylor Swift‘s Fearless concert.

I expected the flash back to my youth… and here’s what I picked up along the way.

1) Taylor Swift has fallen in and out of love A LOT for a 20-yr-old.

2) Her closet must look like a Disco club.

3) Her “Awe, OMG, I can’t believe a crowd of people came to hear me” look is beginning to look fake.

4) She has more energy than Max does.

5) She puts on an absolutely, fantastically entertaining show — and it is a show, not a concert, complete with video clips of interviews with her and her music’s subjects, acted out skits on stage and wanders through the audience.

What my country music-loving man friend discovered.

1) They convert all but one men’s room into a women’s room for these sort of shows.

2) The one men’s room has no line.

2) The bars have no line.

Excellent job Taylor; I’d come see you again — though next time I might bring an <18… just to fit in, ya’ know?

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After all the perverse testosterone- and teenage hormone-flooded energy of the last two shows, I was in dire need of some mature, classy feminine entertainment.

So I went with three lovely sophisticated lady friends to see Chelsea Handler‘s Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang tour at Radio City. It was just what I needed. We, along with thousands of mid-20s to mid-30s women, all with vodka cocktails in hand, enjoyed a quiet discussion of her recent break-up with Ted, the E!- hotshot BF from her latest book, her senile father who was apparently in the audience and her third grade masturbation habit.

She was hilarious… no, more than hilarious. She was bloody effin hilarious. Yet, I think a lot of the humor stemmed from having read and absorbed all her book material over the past few months. Every person, situation and racial joke that she threw out triggered a reference to a story from her book in my head, and I’d start cracking up before she finished delivering the punchline. There was no way she could cram the hilarity of the situations she creates for herself into a 1.5 hour stand-up routine.

What I did enjoy from both her and the opener’s bits was their outward mocking of pregnancy and kids. I couldn’t help but think, “35-yr-olds who don’t want kids? I wish every woman who’s said to me ‘You’ll change your mind later’ could have been there to witness these scientific anomalies who hadn’t been slapped with an urge to breed.” Word up sistas!

And that concludes my weekend.

It’s now Wednesday and I got things to do… it’s fancy dinner date night with SS. And as you know, dinner with SS is one of my favorite things to do. BRING IT!!

(Note: As I closed WordPress I received a text from SS with this photo and the caption: “Mmmm baby geese… Fois Gras tonight.” Never leave him alone with your pets B&Gs — unless it’s a cat; in that case you only have to worry about him stealing it.)