Monday, June 28, 2010

Finding Forty, Day 33; Petty, And I Don't Mean Tom

Today I find myself in fair to (gasp) good spirits. Mostly I think I'm happy last night I didn't down an entire bottle of wine or eat a third world country's fair share of dinner.

A and I (gasp) talked last night. Imagine that. It was one of those good talks where we both stay calm and level headed. Our eyes only welled up with tears, there was no outright crying or sobbing. Such progress.

The Reader's Digest version of the talk is that we have realized we are, essentially, roommates. He doesn't, can't feel married to me as long as I love S. Fair enough, but if I'm being honest here... if that's the case, we might have the roomie thing going on for a while.

Mostly today, I'm thinking about how petty I am. It shouldn't and doesn't make me happy or proud, but I'm going to go ahead and mention how my brain functions.

The 4th of July is coming up and we were invited to a firework viewing party by some acquaintances of ours. They're a super cool couple who I'd really like to get to know better, but with work and kids and probably my neon, flashing, scarlet "A" on my chest, it might make sense that our paths don't cross too often.

Anyway, during one of our late night talks, as roommates are wont to do, A admitted that he was sparked by another woman who I know is invited to this 4th of July party. When A and I talk about being sparked by someone, we mean that weird, butterfly feeling that makes us think there might be something more there. Chemistry, attraction, curiosity. In the past, A has avoided women he gets that feeling with and me, well...we all know what I tend to do.

So, this woman A sparks for will most likely be at the party and for two days I seriously contemplated declining our invitation and never even telling A we were invited! I don't really want to see this woman (she happens to be really pretty, funny, athletic, accomplished, yadda, yadda, yadda) and now that I know she sparks A, I don't want to have to see him around her or pretend to not want to scope out their interactions.

Petty, I know. I'm in love with another man for fuck's sake! Makes no sense at all.

For the holiday weekend, I'd been contemplating coming to Dallas to stay with Dallas while she house sits for her boss. Maybe I still will. A can just go to the party without me and spark and do whatever he feels to his little heart's delight. The fact that it even bothers me is a whole, entire, other subject for another blog. Gah!

Second petty observation. S throws a huge 4th of July party every year that pretty much dominates his life and thinking for weeks, possibly even months before the event. He and his wife and family spend hundreds of dollars, invite a ton of people out, and have what sounds like a grand old time. He coordinates contests such as skeet shooting, horseshoe tossing, fart smelling and nose picking. I don't really remember what all the games are, I just know he gets intense about everything and puts a lot of effort into it. The things that stand out to me is that he takes it all very, very seriously and it's a huge excuse for him to party like crazy. Crazy, I tell ya. Last year, I think over the course of the entire weekend, he and his wife consumed 90 beers each. EACH. I have serious concerns about the man's liver. "Gotta get thru the 4th", is what he chants, almost like a fucking mantra.

Anyway, I want it to rain on his party. Not proud to admit that, but I do. I want it to be a big, wet, nasty mess, full of mud and lightning and stench. Of course, it won't matter. They have shelter there, they're used to messy situations (internal laugh), but still, in my weak, little, petty mind, I want anything that can go wrong to go wrong.

I hate the fucking 4th of July.

Last year on the 4th of July, I sat with A in some shitty, chain restaurant outside of Dallas and listened to him tell me he wanted a divorce. We cried, gave each other back our wedding rings (we still don't wear them), and drove off in opposite directions. I wanted, needed to talk to S, but guess what? It was the 4th of July and he was probably on beer #72 by that point and was busy trying to take the lead in the ball scratching match.

Yeah, I'm petty. So what?

In the infamous words of Tom,
Someone's gonna tell you lies,

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