Month: September 2014

Saturday, August 24th, 2013

One of my bad habits — as I’m sure you’ve noticed over the last year and a half — is that I’m really lazy when it comes to doing little chores. Yes, I can be lazy about big chores, too. I’ve never been very good at cleaning.  (Unless it’s the kitchen which you know I like to keep spotless. Like obsessively so. I’ve taken knives and forks to a dirty stove top in an attempt to scratch off persistent stains.) And I might delay particularly daunting tasks at work. But I always get them done eventually, even if it takes four or five reminders. When I talk about my bad habit I’m talking in regards to minor chores, made all the worse because these little things aren’t hard to do at all. I’m just super lazy.

Let me give you an example. For whatever reason, my pass card at work didn’t work correctly. I had less access than the summer interns! I couldn’t get into my offices before nine or after five…which is a problem but also a rationalization for coming into work a little late and always leaving on time. All it takes to get this little problem fixed is an email to our building manager, an email that I was too lazy to send…for almost a year! That’s like criminal, I know. My work pass didn’t work for twelve months all because I was too lazy to type a simple email and CC my boss for approval. This is what I mean when I say I have a bad habit of getting little chores done.

But that’s all changing.

Yesterday morning I sent that email to my building manager and not ten minutes later I had full access. Why did that take me so long to fix? It was so easy at the end. This success is making me realize that there are a lot of little things that I’ve been pushing off that I’m going to get done now.

I’ve needed new glasses forever. My current pair is from back when I was eighteen and is disgustingly outdated. Even my optometrist makes fun of them, saying that no one even makes that style anymore. He’s a sixty-five-year-old man and has more ocular fashion sense than me!

As of this morning, my new pair is ordered.

You used to always complain that I didn’t have a hand towel in my bathroom…I made a trip to Target and got one today, along with those stick-on wall hooks. Now my bathroom is tricked out, ready for hand/face drying.

You also used to complain that I only had two pillows on my bed. You have six on yours, which I admit is nice and comfy. My trip to Target also yielded two new pillows. Now I have four, enough for both of us to have one under our heads and between our legs (this second pillow for back support, you taught me), though you have no plans to ever stay over again. So I guess that means I have four pillows now for just myself. It will help fill out the bed so I don’t miss your presence so much.

I also ordered a chaise lounge. (I know. It sounds kind of silly. But there’s nowhere to sit in my room except on the bed which isn’t the most comfortable unless I’m actually sleeping.) It’s a wonderful little black fainting couch. I can’t wait for it to arrive. I really think it’s going to tie my room together. I’m going to set it over near my bookshelf ledge so I can just lounge and read all day, everyday. Throw in some grapes and a palm frond and I’ve got the ancient Greek lifestyle all to myself.

I guess with all of these little changes, I’m trying to make my room comfortable for visitors. For you. No wonder you rarely wanted to come over. We spent most of our nights together at your place where you have a home set up. You have six pillows and hand towels in the bathroom. Artwork on the walls and carpets on the floors. You have a welcoming apartment. I don’t.

Checking all of these little things off of my chore list wasn’t for purely selfish reasons. It’s my way of showing you that I can change, of trying to snap out of my doldrums and make my room more inviting both to myself and to you, in whatever non-relationship the future holds for us. We still haven’t had our talk, so in my mind we haven’t broken up irrevocably yet. Maybe we’ll exchange our stuff at my apartment, in my room, where you’ll sit on my new chaise lounge and marvel at how things are better. Maybe you’ll change your mind about ending things…

Either way, I’m going to be spending a lot more time at home, so i guess it’s a good thing I’m getting that chaise lounge. Now to find someone willing to feed me grapes by hand…I’m off to Craigslist.

Friday, August 23rd, 2013

I went to the beach today. I was so spontaneous. I literally made the decision at midnight last night. At kickball Kristen was asking around, seeing if anyone wanted to go with her. I had the day off (summer Fridays rock!) so I made the spur of the moment decision to say yes.

Are you proud? Or at least surprised? I’m a planner. I don’t like last minute decisions. I’m trying to change that, though.

I met Kristen this morning at Penn Station and we headed out to Long Beach. I got excited when the ocean came into view. I don’t think I’ve been to the beach at all this summer.

I had on my little pink and white striped suit. It was so cute, and I was looking pretty thin that day. (I’ve run like three days this week.)  I also had on my great, straw Penguin (the clothing brand, not the animal) hat. I love that thing. And it frames my face nicely. I was blessed with a good head for hats.

Kristen and I set up our beach towel on the sand and plopped down with our books. It was so relaxing, not too hot a day for the beach but also not too chilly.

We read for a while and chatted. It was great to have a girls-day-out kind of thing. I went for a walk and saw some super attractive lifeguards. All straight, unfortunately. But at least I could appreciate their good looks (mostly their ridiculous bodies) without feeling guilty. I am single now, whether I like it or not. When I got back from my walk, Kristen had the best surprise for me.

A foursome had set up camp near us while I was away. Two guys and two girls. Two couples, I figured. Nothing special until I noticed that one of the guys was maybe the most attractive guy I’ve ever seen. I would call him the most attractive man, but he didn’t have that adult, masculine look that would make him a man. He didn’t have the weathered appearance of someone who’s lived through a few decades. He didn’t have the dark stubble or the beginning-to-form wrinkles of a man. Instead, he was the epitome of youth. And not like gross Twink youth. He was mid-twenties youth. Powerful, sexy, immortal. He looked twenty-four or twenty-five. I didn’t see hair anywhere on his body except for on top of his head. And there, it was this lush dark brown, put up in a messy coif, perfect for a beach day. And his muscles…oh my god, his muscles. I had to pinch myself to remember that I was at the beach and not in some museum. His abs looked like they’d been chiseled from marble. His biceps – spectacular. His pecs – immaculate. He had on this amazing pair of trunks, this cool black and neon stripped pattern. And they fit him perfectly, coming only midway down his quads, that cut that confident straight men and bro-y gay men seem to gravitate towards.

He was hot. And straight. But that didn’t keep me from enjoying the view. The beach an ideal place to snoop on people considering everyone’s wearing sunglasses and can’t see where you’re looking. Kristen and I kept sneaking glances at him, trying to take pictures with him in the background. I felt like a teenager again, so silly.

Eventually we took a break from laying out and boy watching to get some lunch. We figured we’d just walk up to the boardwalk and get something there. I asked Kristen whether or not I needed to put on a shirt. She told me no, so I didn’t. I did throw on a pair of shorts over my tiny trunks, but that was it.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that when Kristen had said the boardwalk, she actually meant the town’s main street. I was envisioning we’d eat at some little sandwich shack or like a beachy bar and grill. Those didn’t exist on this street. We had walked to where we’d gotten off the train, cars whizzing by in both directions. I was getting nervous. Every restaurant had a sign proclaiming shirts and shoes were required. My shirt was back on the beach, so that was going to be a problem.

Finally we picked a burger place and Kristen disappeared inside to order our food. We’d have to eat back at the beach, which was fine with me. More time for “most attractive guy ever” ogling. But while Kristen ordered, I had to wait outside by myself.

I felt like such a pariah, standing there on the corner, half-naked. A train pulled into the station and bunches of people began walking by me towards the beach. I felt like a prostitute hanging out on that corner, and a cheap one at that. Only cheap prostitutes work during the day, and on such a sad street in Long Beach.

Eventually Kristen came out with our food and we walked back to the beach, munching on fries as we went. Turns out that eating burgers on a beach blanket gets really messy. But it was an amazing day. I felt good about the spontaneity. I should do this more often.

Like I said, I’m trying to change.