Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Sometimes singleness Rocks

One thing I love about getting old is having a longer memory. I didn't know if I might actually DIE the first time I rode Texas Cyclone at Astroworld. But I didn't. I loved it. Once I'd taken the ride, I knew I could survive it. Life's like that. it takes a few long lines at the roller coaster before you start to figure it out.
You get older … and nothing kills you.
A longer memory gives you the benefit of knowing you've come out of other stuff alive.. even when you weren't sure you would. Ergo, you'll probably come out of whatever you're in now.
So don't let it stress you out.
As I get older, I have richer memories, I have increasingly richer friendships. Friendships wrapped around years of inside jokes and drunken tears tied by a string of jobs lost, raises, divorces, births, remarriages and reconciliation. friends who over our years of yellowing memory books have become my family. They are gold flecks in the air that surrounds me. they make me sparkle inside. I am grateful to have their glitz.

Now, onto the blog.

Saturday I was kid-less and hungover. I slept late, showered, then went to my buddy's house. We've been friends for like 13 years. Very casual—I didn't even wear makeup. he and his wife were going to barbecue; I'd bring potato salad. There was talk of margaritas. Easy.

I'd been there about 15 minutes when I realized that the two of them were having one of those days. I remember those days—magnetic mood days.You and your man are like two wrong sides of a magnet – he's in a good mood when you-- for no apparent reason—just get bitchy... A little wriggling, snipping at each other, something happens and you laugh. your mood shifts, your magnet flips—now you're good mood side up. About that time he curses the furniture you rearranged last week. He's got cranky surface showing. your moods are repellent. you're not going to merge properly today. In any way.

At least that's how I remember the days of magnet mood—ah, marriage. there I was with potato salad and no mascara.

Any quirky thing can turn a mediocre magnet-mood day into a full fledged 'do not touch me' evening. In the case of my beautiful friends, that quirky thing was the VCR remote. First she wanted it, but couldn't find it. Then she gave up on it. Which of course made him bound and determined to find it. After 20 minutes of admirable verbal jousting from both sides, complete with ottoman lifting and couch cushion searching: the elusive remote was found. I rolled my eyes. By now, I didn't give a shit about the movie anyway.

Sometimes being single rocks.

Sunday I had a flat tire. Now if i was married, along with a flat tire on the hottest day I've ever spent in a dress, I'd have ALSO to deal with a male ego—because lord knows I've never been with a man who would change a tire. But regardless of his handy--index, dealing with a sweaty chick in heels AND a flat tire, under any circumstance can throw a couples' day into chaos.

I was actually grateful to be alone… sitting there in my car, waiting for help. Knowing and cherishing (yes, i promise!) that I didn't have to deal with the man I loved.
He doesn't exist. Sweet.

After the flat tire, I needed a drink. I met my friends at La Strada, enjoyed a drive through the westheimer curve, peeked through some old neighborhoods, then picked up frosty's for the girls who would be dropped off soon after I got home.

How long was I gone? Don't know. Luckily, I didn't have anyone who needs to get back to watch Tiger on the 18th hole. I'm solo. Me-o

Every morning, I sleep until the last, bitter, absolute final minute before I have to race into the shower, smear makeup in all the right spots and sprint out the door. My ex used to hate that. He was a coffee in the morning before you shower kind of guy. He'd be asleep before stupid human tricks had started, but awake before willard scott. There were other areas in which we were incompatible… I just thought of this one first.

Sometimes singleness rocks.

The next morning I indulged in a little late morning lounging. I had plucked out a show from the tivo lineup and had it cued up. I arranged pillows, got the kroger flyer situated and had a book ready on the bedstand. I crawled in and reached for the remote to start my "Top Chef" marathon…and … I couldn't find it.
I walked around the bed, looked at the desk, even on my sink counter… nowhere. did I take it to the living room? Refrigerator? Where? I just had it.
I knew who lost it; I knew who had it last. It was definitely me.

Singleness deletes negative mood slinging; simply because there's nobody around to sling it at.

Being single keeps me humble. I'm forced to admit that I am a dumb ass.

I lose things.

I procrastinate.

I know who forgot to take my black dress to the cleaners.
It's the same person who will have to dab the spot off of it with a cotton ball so she can wear it tonight: it's me.

I know who drank the last beer.

I know who was supposed to get the car washed.

I know who paid the card late so there's a fee next month.

I can't get pissed off at my husband --- i don't have one.

It's bittersweet clarity, people: you have to look deep.

But once you get a nice long string of days without having your mood magnet flipped … you'll see: Sometimes singleness rocks.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I LOVE the completely bipolar nature of this blog. I love that you started it. I love that I can (maybe, kinda) take the credit.

I'm gonna keep checking back. You should tell your friends and neighbors. You rock!