It was a weekend right out of a Neil Diamond song, I’m afraid.
Friday night I met my friend CombatGirl for coffee for the first time in a couple of months, and she filled me in on her recent breakup with the guy she had been seeing for the past year. I knew she had been on the fence regarding this relationship for a while, but apparently the deal breaker happened a few weeks after Christmas, when the boyfriend asked my friend why her father hadn’t shown up for the family Christmas gathering at her house.
Given that my friend has been estranged from her father for years—which she had told the boyfriend all about—and given that she had, not long before, experienced a difficult emotional episode related to her estrangement from her father—an episode which the boyfriend had witnessed part of—CombatGirl was understandably surprised by his question. She promptly introduced herself as the woman he had been dating for the past year, and then broke up with him.
I’m thinking she made the right call.
The next night I had dinner with Dr. Dave, who was in town for a few days, and who, coincidentally, is also fresh on the heels of a breakup. A woman he had met here in Minneapolis started pursuing him via e-mail shortly after his move to Maryland last summer, and at first the effort of trying to do the long-distance relationship thing had seemed worthwhile. They shared a number of common views on things like religion and politics and buying locally-grown produce, and she even liked baseball.
But, over time, he grew concerned that she was a few years younger than him. And that she seemed a little bit closer to her parents than most adults he knows. And also, that she had a habit of taking in wounded or abandoned animals. Her menagerie of pets included a three-legged kitten and a couple of parrots, and while Dr. Dave doesn’t have a problem with animals specifically, there seemed to be a lot of them, and he began to find it a little bit odd that she treated them more like children than animals.
Then, after a couple of back-and-forth weekends, it seemed like she was maybe a smidge more invested in the relationship than he was. And, he learned, she had a funny way of turning every conversation around until it was all about her. And so, after much deliberating, Dr. Dave decided to break it off.
Still, when we met on Saturday, he was not 100% sure he had done the right thing. Much of our conversation during dinner was about just that, and it continued in the car as I was driving him to the airport after dinner.
Finally, he said, “...and she sleeps with her parents.”
“What?” I said, horrified. “Like, in the same bed?”
“Yes,” he said. “Birds. In the bed.”
I realized then that he had said “parrots,” not “parents,” although I couldn't decide if that was better, or worse.
“Is that weird?” he asked. "That's weird, isn't it?"
I imagined little feathery heads nestled into fluffy pillows, with a comforter snuggled up under beaky chins, and Dr. Dave and his girlfriend tucked in on either side.
“I could have saved you a lot of time if you had told me about this months ago,” I said.
But, apparently, he hadn’t known about the birds in the bed until very recently. And I did not ask him for the details of how, exactly, he had learned of the birds in the bed. Because I have learned from experience that one should not ask questions that one really, REALLY, does not want to know the answer to.
I'm pretty sure he also made the right call.
Showing posts with label CombatGirl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label CombatGirl. Show all posts
Monday, March 12, 2007
Monday, November 20, 2006
People I Am Thankful For
I am thankful for my daughters, for the things they teach me every day and for giving me a reason to keep on keepin’ on, even when I really, really don’t want to at all.
I am thankful for my niece, Madge, for being my excuse to shop for toys this Christmas, which she is going to get lots and lots of because she now knows my name and runs to give me hugs and kisses whenever I come over. What color pony would you like, my little munchkin?
For my smart, funny, gorgeous sisters and sister-cousins, whose e-mails make me laugh out loud, and who are not afraid to dance entirely without inhibitions whenever Neil Diamond is on. Even when they have not been drinking alcoholic beverages beforehand.
For my parents, and my aunts and uncles and second cousins and first-cousins-once-removed and all the rest of my giant, noisy, often dysfunctional extended family. For my Aunt Linda, who remembered to call me on my birthday, even though she and my Uncle Dave divorced when I was eight years old and she now lives in Louisiana. And for my brother-in-law, Jim, who will soon be helping me hang drywall in my sunroom, although he doesn’t know it yet.
I am thankful for the family members who will attend Thanksgiving dinner in spirit. My Grandma Devoy through her creamed onions recipe, which I wrote down shortly before she celebrated her 90th birthday, and my Grandma Townsend by way of her Fire King casserole dish with the fruit painted on the side, which I will be serving the creamed onions in on Thursday.
I am thankful for My Ho, who is kind and thoughtful and loving and trustworthy, even when I don’t feel very deserving of any of those things. And patient. I am thankful that he is very, very patient. And also that he is bringing pie.
I am thankful for the babies on the way—Batgirl’s Baby Boof, and my cousin Kerry’s new little girl, because it will certainly not be a boy THIS time around.
I am thankful for my friend Liz, who keeps me sane. For my friend Dr. Dave, who makes my brain hurt (but in a good way). For my friend Batgirl, who continues to prove that baseball, good writing and sass make an awesome combination. For Mother Bear Amy, who provides an ongoing example that one person with an idea and a little passion can make a big difference in the world. For Leah, who doesn't care that my dog jumps over the fence to poop in her yard (I seriously am going to clean that up). And for my friend Daniel, who souped up my PC so DemiGoddess the Younger can watch Degrassi episodes online, and so I can now play the latest Age of Empires games, and he did it all for only the price of the hardware and a sandwich from Jimmy John's.
I am thankful for that handful of blog browsers who kept coming here when I was silent for an entire month with no explanation. I don't know who most of who you are, and I don't know why you stuck around, but because of the miracle of StatCounter, I know you were here, and I thank you.
I am thankful for all the Demis’ terrific teachers and Girl Scouts troop leaders and the other adults who are helping them become amazing young women.
I am thankful for doctors and nurses, for police officers and sanitation workers, and all those people who do the jobs that I would never in a million years want to do.
I am thankful for Nancy Pelosi and all the new blue congresspeople. (Please, please don’t f*ck it up in the next two years. PLEASE.)
I am thankful for my dog, who is not a person, exactly, but she still counts as a family member.
And, of course, I am thankful for the Minnesota Twins. All of them. But especially Johan Santana.
I am thankful for my niece, Madge, for being my excuse to shop for toys this Christmas, which she is going to get lots and lots of because she now knows my name and runs to give me hugs and kisses whenever I come over. What color pony would you like, my little munchkin?
For my smart, funny, gorgeous sisters and sister-cousins, whose e-mails make me laugh out loud, and who are not afraid to dance entirely without inhibitions whenever Neil Diamond is on. Even when they have not been drinking alcoholic beverages beforehand.
For my parents, and my aunts and uncles and second cousins and first-cousins-once-removed and all the rest of my giant, noisy, often dysfunctional extended family. For my Aunt Linda, who remembered to call me on my birthday, even though she and my Uncle Dave divorced when I was eight years old and she now lives in Louisiana. And for my brother-in-law, Jim, who will soon be helping me hang drywall in my sunroom, although he doesn’t know it yet.
I am thankful for the family members who will attend Thanksgiving dinner in spirit. My Grandma Devoy through her creamed onions recipe, which I wrote down shortly before she celebrated her 90th birthday, and my Grandma Townsend by way of her Fire King casserole dish with the fruit painted on the side, which I will be serving the creamed onions in on Thursday.
I am thankful for My Ho, who is kind and thoughtful and loving and trustworthy, even when I don’t feel very deserving of any of those things. And patient. I am thankful that he is very, very patient. And also that he is bringing pie.
I am thankful for the babies on the way—Batgirl’s Baby Boof, and my cousin Kerry’s new little girl, because it will certainly not be a boy THIS time around.
I am thankful for my friend Liz, who keeps me sane. For my friend Dr. Dave, who makes my brain hurt (but in a good way). For my friend Batgirl, who continues to prove that baseball, good writing and sass make an awesome combination. For Mother Bear Amy, who provides an ongoing example that one person with an idea and a little passion can make a big difference in the world. For Leah, who doesn't care that my dog jumps over the fence to poop in her yard (I seriously am going to clean that up). And for my friend Daniel, who souped up my PC so DemiGoddess the Younger can watch Degrassi episodes online, and so I can now play the latest Age of Empires games, and he did it all for only the price of the hardware and a sandwich from Jimmy John's.
I am thankful for that handful of blog browsers who kept coming here when I was silent for an entire month with no explanation. I don't know who most of who you are, and I don't know why you stuck around, but because of the miracle of StatCounter, I know you were here, and I thank you.
I am thankful for all the Demis’ terrific teachers and Girl Scouts troop leaders and the other adults who are helping them become amazing young women.
I am thankful for doctors and nurses, for police officers and sanitation workers, and all those people who do the jobs that I would never in a million years want to do.
I am thankful for Nancy Pelosi and all the new blue congresspeople. (Please, please don’t f*ck it up in the next two years. PLEASE.)
I am thankful for my dog, who is not a person, exactly, but she still counts as a family member.
And, of course, I am thankful for the Minnesota Twins. All of them. But especially Johan Santana.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
A Friend in Mom's Clothing
-----Original Message-----
From: CombatGirl
Sent: Thursday, September 14, 2006 9:23 AM
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: Thought for the Day
No person is your friend who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow. - Alice Walker (1944 - )
-----Original Message-----
From: EverydaySuperGoddess
Sent: Thursday, September 14, 2006 9:26 AM
To: CombatGirl
Subject: RE: Thought for the Day
Mmmmmm... not even if that person is your mother? And she has a headache? And you have been talking non-stop for the past 45 minutes?
-----Original Message-----
From: CombatGirl
Sent: Thursday, September 14, 2006 9:33 AM
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: RE: RE: Thought for the Day
It's more of a figurative silence... But no, when Johnny Rotten has "just one more thing" to tell me and it's 10:15 at night, demanding silence is the friendliest thing I can do for/to her.
From: CombatGirl
Sent: Thursday, September 14, 2006 9:23 AM
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: Thought for the Day
No person is your friend who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow. - Alice Walker (1944 - )
-----Original Message-----
From: EverydaySuperGoddess
Sent: Thursday, September 14, 2006 9:26 AM
To: CombatGirl
Subject: RE: Thought for the Day
Mmmmmm... not even if that person is your mother? And she has a headache? And you have been talking non-stop for the past 45 minutes?
-----Original Message-----
From: CombatGirl
Sent: Thursday, September 14, 2006 9:33 AM
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: RE: RE: Thought for the Day
It's more of a figurative silence... But no, when Johnny Rotten has "just one more thing" to tell me and it's 10:15 at night, demanding silence is the friendliest thing I can do for/to her.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
We're Totally Still Friends
CombatGirl will soon begin blogging from her very own site, which she hopes to have up and running in the near future.
In the meantime, you can find her continuing adventures, including updates on Johnny and Sid and culinary tips for her ex, here.
And, for the record, this dissolution has been a great deal more amicable than either of our divorces. Way cheaper, too.
In the meantime, you can find her continuing adventures, including updates on Johnny and Sid and culinary tips for her ex, here.
And, for the record, this dissolution has been a great deal more amicable than either of our divorces. Way cheaper, too.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
The Great Dork Off
Part I
From: CombatGirl
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Sent: Monday, October 03, 2005
Subject: I am a dork
Yup, I am...do you have any words of wisdom (i.e. meditations, pithy sayings) to address general feelings of dorkiness?
From: EverydaySuperGoddess
To: CombatGirl
Subject: RE: I am a dork
If you're a dork, I'm an even bigger one.
Does that help?
From: CombatGirl
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: RE: I am a dork
Highlights of dorkiness:
1) After a very uncomfortable couple of hours with (most recent boyfriend) this weekend I've (finally) determined that there's just too much of a disconnect in some of our shared values to keep hanging out. The dorkiness is that I know I'm not the easiest person for someone to be with, but is there anyone out there even close to sharing a page with me, or am I just a total freak?
2) On that note, I spoke with Guy I Have A Crush On a few minutes ago, and gave him a brief outline of my crisis, and I think HE was looking at me like, "You are a total dork. Plus, you're insane." Not quite the effect I was going for. Dork-dom, for sure.
I do not believe you are dorkier than me. I don't think that's possible, for anyone. If there were a Queen of the Dorks, I'd wear the crown, Sister.
From: EverydaySuperGoddess
To: CombatGirl
Subject: RE: I am a dork
You're not a freak. It just didn't work out. That doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you, or with him. It just wasn't the right fit for either one of you right now.
As for Crush Guy, if he didn't actually speak, it's hard to really know what's happening in his head.
Highlights of MY dorkiness:
My Ho and I toured three alpaca farms last weekend, and I'm positively dying with longing to own one of my own so that I can have piles and piles of yarn from my own alpaca to knit with. I'll probably drag my kids to another one this weekend.
The queen of the dorks would be ME.
From: CombatGirl
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: RE: I am a dork
No, I think the Queen (or King?) of the Dorks would be whoever decided to call the alpaca website AlpacaNation. ALPACANATION! Sounds a little too Sandinista-ish for a bunch of farmers.
I rescind my earlier opinion... You ARE approaching dorkiness. But maybe, in the bigger sense, it's merely a matter of perspective: to the Alpaca Nation, you are becoming cooler by the minute.
From: EverydaySuperGoddess
To: CombatGirl
Subject: RE: I am a dork
Toldja.
From: CombatGirl
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: RE: I am a dork
To sum up: we may be dorky... and there are those in the world who love us, not in spite of, but because of our dorkiness, and, further, who love us precisely because of our precise dorkiness. THAT's what I'm looking for.
If buying an alpaca would bring you great joy, I say go for it.
From: EverydaySuperGoddess
To: CombatGirl
Subject: RE: I am a dork
It would, but realistically, I need to buy a new computer and braces for Demigoddess the Elder first. So I haven't completely lost my mind.
My Ho insists that he is finding all of this very endearing, so I guess that proves your point.
Part II
From: CombatGirl
Sent: Tuesday, October 04, 2005
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: Dork No Longer!
Guy I Have A Crush On called me this morning--he said he was going to call me last night but that he didn't want to bug me so he didn't (in other words, was aware he could potentially appear dorky, I guess). Apparently, at least some of my dorkiness is only in my head. Good to know.
However, if I come up with anything better than alpaca farming, I'll let you know. I thought I had the world-at-large trumped on dorkiness with my proclivity for scrapbooking, but... now it's big business. Had a friend in high school (guy) who was into muzzle-loading, which could beat the alpaca thing. Or, if you were one of those guys who likes to dress up as though you were in the Civil War and reenact it, that might be the ultimate.
From: EverydaySuperGoddess
To: Combat Girl
Subject: RE: Dork No Longer!
Right. And I have never camped out overnight to purchase movie tickets of any kind. Nor have I ever dressed in a costume to attend a movie. Not even Rocky Horror.
Technically, I wouldn't be alpaca "farming," I'd be "agisting," which means I'd be paying someone to keep it at their farm for me...
From: CombatGirl
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: RE: Dork No Longer!
Didn't dress up for Rocky Horror, but boy, did I ever throw toast. And cover my head w/newspaper during the rain scenes, etc.
"Agisting". Hmm. Dorkier than farmer.
From: EverydaySuperGoddess
To: CombatGirl
Subject: RE: Dork No Longer!
Yep. See? I totally win.
From: CombatGirl
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Sent: Monday, October 03, 2005
Subject: I am a dork
Yup, I am...do you have any words of wisdom (i.e. meditations, pithy sayings) to address general feelings of dorkiness?
From: EverydaySuperGoddess
To: CombatGirl
Subject: RE: I am a dork
If you're a dork, I'm an even bigger one.
Does that help?
From: CombatGirl
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: RE: I am a dork
Highlights of dorkiness:
1) After a very uncomfortable couple of hours with (most recent boyfriend) this weekend I've (finally) determined that there's just too much of a disconnect in some of our shared values to keep hanging out. The dorkiness is that I know I'm not the easiest person for someone to be with, but is there anyone out there even close to sharing a page with me, or am I just a total freak?
2) On that note, I spoke with Guy I Have A Crush On a few minutes ago, and gave him a brief outline of my crisis, and I think HE was looking at me like, "You are a total dork. Plus, you're insane." Not quite the effect I was going for. Dork-dom, for sure.
I do not believe you are dorkier than me. I don't think that's possible, for anyone. If there were a Queen of the Dorks, I'd wear the crown, Sister.
From: EverydaySuperGoddess
To: CombatGirl
Subject: RE: I am a dork
You're not a freak. It just didn't work out. That doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you, or with him. It just wasn't the right fit for either one of you right now.
As for Crush Guy, if he didn't actually speak, it's hard to really know what's happening in his head.
Highlights of MY dorkiness:
My Ho and I toured three alpaca farms last weekend, and I'm positively dying with longing to own one of my own so that I can have piles and piles of yarn from my own alpaca to knit with. I'll probably drag my kids to another one this weekend.
The queen of the dorks would be ME.
From: CombatGirl
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: RE: I am a dork
No, I think the Queen (or King?) of the Dorks would be whoever decided to call the alpaca website AlpacaNation. ALPACANATION! Sounds a little too Sandinista-ish for a bunch of farmers.
I rescind my earlier opinion... You ARE approaching dorkiness. But maybe, in the bigger sense, it's merely a matter of perspective: to the Alpaca Nation, you are becoming cooler by the minute.
From: EverydaySuperGoddess
To: CombatGirl
Subject: RE: I am a dork
Toldja.
From: CombatGirl
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: RE: I am a dork
To sum up: we may be dorky... and there are those in the world who love us, not in spite of, but because of our dorkiness, and, further, who love us precisely because of our precise dorkiness. THAT's what I'm looking for.
If buying an alpaca would bring you great joy, I say go for it.
From: EverydaySuperGoddess
To: CombatGirl
Subject: RE: I am a dork
It would, but realistically, I need to buy a new computer and braces for Demigoddess the Elder first. So I haven't completely lost my mind.
My Ho insists that he is finding all of this very endearing, so I guess that proves your point.
Part II
From: CombatGirl
Sent: Tuesday, October 04, 2005
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: Dork No Longer!
Guy I Have A Crush On called me this morning--he said he was going to call me last night but that he didn't want to bug me so he didn't (in other words, was aware he could potentially appear dorky, I guess). Apparently, at least some of my dorkiness is only in my head. Good to know.
However, if I come up with anything better than alpaca farming, I'll let you know. I thought I had the world-at-large trumped on dorkiness with my proclivity for scrapbooking, but... now it's big business. Had a friend in high school (guy) who was into muzzle-loading, which could beat the alpaca thing. Or, if you were one of those guys who likes to dress up as though you were in the Civil War and reenact it, that might be the ultimate.
From: EverydaySuperGoddess
To: Combat Girl
Subject: RE: Dork No Longer!
Right. And I have never camped out overnight to purchase movie tickets of any kind. Nor have I ever dressed in a costume to attend a movie. Not even Rocky Horror.
Technically, I wouldn't be alpaca "farming," I'd be "agisting," which means I'd be paying someone to keep it at their farm for me...
From: CombatGirl
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: RE: Dork No Longer!
Didn't dress up for Rocky Horror, but boy, did I ever throw toast. And cover my head w/newspaper during the rain scenes, etc.
"Agisting". Hmm. Dorkier than farmer.
From: EverydaySuperGoddess
To: CombatGirl
Subject: RE: Dork No Longer!
Yep. See? I totally win.
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