Wednesday, November 18, 2009

About a blog

It’s been too long, hasn’t it?

I am sorry for disappearing. I’ve been trying to figure out what I want to do about the blog. This isn’t new territory, I’m afraid. It’s not that I don’t have anything to say—it’s not even lack of motivation, though that’s certainly part of it—it’s more a question of, is this how I want to spend my writing time?

I’m going to tell a long story now, the upshot of which is, when am I going to write that book (novel)?

Last week, I was innocently getting some lunch in the cafeteria in my building. I look up and see…a very long ago ex-boyfriend. My only real workplace boyfriend ever and there he was, back to work at our agency. Whoops and Yikes. He was happy (?) to see me and we chatted a little. Then he asked if I were planning to eat at my desk. I was, of course, but I said I could take a few minutes to sit down with him. What else could I do?

We got our food and found a table. He is a decent guy. Our relationship lasted for a lot longer than…well, than any other relationship I’ve had since (though not before), which was about nine months. He broke up with me but it was one of those things where I was really the one who wanted out but I wouldn’t say so. He grew increasingly frustrated with me (rightfully so) and then, in one big screaming fight, it was over. (We fought way too much for my taste.) Except, well, we broke up the Saturday before September 11, 2001. Which led to a slight coda to the relationship and pushed final end date to about a month later. It was a terrible time to be completely alone and I insisted that he spend a little time with me. I don’t feel bad about that and I kind of doubt he does either.

What did bother me was that a week or two after the “true” ending of our relationship, he had a new girlfriend. Not someone he was dating, but a real, true, sleepover type girlfriend. This led to one bit of bad behavior on my part, although I don’t ever remember wanting to get back together with him (not even during the coda). The bad behavior was a 1am phone call where I yelled at him for showing up at a salsa dancing place I used to frequent. He and I had gone there a couple of times and he tried to learn to dance. Disaster. When I tried to dance with him, he got very upset with himself for not getting it (I was nice, I promise) and it was quite unpleasant. Anyway, I found it galling sitting at that club, waiting for a no-show friend (I’m looking at you, Cee-money) and instead spotting my newly minted ex with his new for-real girlfriend. I left and made the angry call when I got home. He told me that I my behavior was “psychotic,” which, ahem, was ridiculous. (The best part of this story is that after I made the call, I noticed a party going on across the street from my apartment. I went to the party and introduced myself as a neighbor and said I’d noticed a party and thought I’d come over. They apologized for the noise. I said I didn’t care. Then they offered me beer.)

I bumped into the ex around the office once or twice after the late night call, but was mostly spared dealing with him. A few months later, in fact two days after he broke up with the girlfriend who came after me, he called me up and asked me to lunch. I met him for lunch. He wanted to be friends. I said, “Where were you for the last six months?” He said, “My ex hated you.” I asked why. He said, “Because she thought you were crazy.” I declined to be friends and that was the last time I spoke to him. That was more than years ago.

Thanks to the wonder of facebook and one mutual friend, I know that he’s married and has a kid. Ok, good for him. My first thoughts on that were—“that could be me” quickly followed by, “thank goodness that’s not me.”

Back to the present. We were having lunch. I was talking nervously. I told him about France. I told him about the Kiwi boyfriend (Kent) in France. I told him about bureaucratic adventures in France. I did everything but ask him about himself. He said, “You should write a book.” Who me? He said, “If anyone could, you could, Jamy.” Sigh.

A couple of days ago, I was emailing with my friend who is a playwright. I told him about the conversation with the ex. The playwright said, “You should write a book. That’s the easy part. It’s the endgame that’s the hard part.” SIGH.

They are right. I SHOULD WRITE A BOOK.

But…I don’t know how to start. I don’t know where to go with it. I’m at sea.

Work is ok. I had an issue with the ex-supervisor. It is getting resolved but it’s unsettling. My old favorite boss told me I was difficult. Work friend Nancy said I react strongly but don’t hold onto my anger (true). Does that make me difficult? I am excited about my new work projects but they’re draining. I am spending every spare moment knitting and watching a lot of tv. I went to spend two days with my dad and brother in NJ and was annoyed with Dad the whole time. I don’t know why. I don’t feel unhappy but I’m not super happy either. I haven’t the slightest bad feeling about being single except that this isn’t how I expected things to go. I don’t miss Curt. I do miss Kent.

Where does that leave the blog? I have no idea. If I ever do decide to stop it for good, I will let you know.

Grateful for: lots to say.

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