Sunday, April 23, 2006

Letters to Liz: October 5, 1995: Part II

Dear Liz,

Will this day never end?? I think I might go stark raving mad. And it’s only noon. I have five more hours, and already sanity is held by the thinnest of threads. Let’s see… I’m tempted at the moment to call Debbie and cancel tonight, but I shouldn’t do that. The remnants of Hurricane Opal are hitting us tonight, though (all the way up here can you believe it??) and we’re going to have winds of 30-40 mph with even stronger gusts accompanied by torrential downpours, and you know how good my night vision is when driving. Plus, it’s almost a two-hour drive. Whine, whine, whine. And Seinfeld is on tonight. And I have my own T.V. on which to watch it.

Let’s see, what would I be babbling about if I were on the phone with you? Probably Matt stuff at the moment. I went over to his apartment last night and read while he and Richard watched baseball. Sounds exciting, eh?? Actually, it was kinda fun. Richard and I continue to get along as far as I can tell. We’ll see… I have a lot of fun with him and Matt. Though Matt is such a psychotic boy. I just can’t figure him out. Last night, before he and Richard went out to get subs, I was teasing him about some silly woven slipper/socks he was wearing. All in jest, he knows I like them. But in the context of our play banter, he says (in a half nasty/half challenging tone of voice) “besides which, do you know who gave them to me? Helen’s parents.” Okay, fine, not a big deal, she broke up with him because he kept yelling out my name in inappropriate moments & Richard and his mother kept going on for years about how much they missed me. But, yeah, I was annoyed. Determined, though, to pretend this is only playful banter, with only a slight ulterior motive, I reply “well, my parents have you more socks on Christmas than you’ve ever received on one occasion.” He laughed a nasty little laugh and said, “I don’t remember that.” I gave him a condensed reminded (one Christmas he spent with us, my parents felt bad that he wouldn’t have as many presents under the tree as everyone else, so they bought him a ton of socks and wrapped them all separately). He gave me a horrid look and said, his voice dripping with condescension. Well you have to understand that I don’t remember anything that happened before 1990; you’re the one who remembers everything. Besides which, do you suppose I still own any of those socks.” Huh?!

So, I’m standing there like a bewildered deer in the headlights wondering how the hell we got this point. Fuming, I went to the bathroom (sometimes my tiny bladder is convenient), took a few deep breaths and went back to say (in a fairly pissy tone, if I must be honest), “Listen I only remember about the socks because you were reminiscing about them last month. I’d forgotten. And I have no idea why you’re so upset. I like your fucking socks.” Matt flashed me that dopey, boyish grin of his and says, “you take me entirely too seriously, besides which, I’m an asshole.” He then proceeds to shower me with a bunch of silly kissed & then leave to get the food.

I don’t know. Anything. I don’t even know why I bore you with these excruciatingly detailed accounts of my life. You are a saint.

You know what my problem is (or one of them, anyway)?? Not that this is a new revelation or anything, but I take everything too seriously. What I just bothered to relate in minute detail wasn’t even a fight, just a tense exchange that happens between people, especially if they’re dating. But I can’t get that through my thick skull. Everything is so damn emblematic & portentous for me. Not to mention thematic. I freaked out over that because of my English degree and superstitious nature. I’m so weird, and consequently doomed to never have a decent relationship. Or even if I ever have a decent relationship, I won’t realize it, I’ll be so busy turning it into a bad novel in my head. I annoy myself.

I probably also annoy you. Sorry about this letter. It’s a rainy day, I wish I was in bed, and I’m in a pissy mood because I didn’t get enough sleep last night (up too late having sex, actually… that’s still great at least.) Is today over yet?

Love,
me

2 Comments:

Blogger lostdwarf said...

Dude, if this is how he acted normally, (how can you forget when someone else's family goes above and beyond to make you feel special and wrap a ton of gifts for you?) no wonder you dropped kicked his butt. You're too awesome for someone like that.

11:58 AM  
Blogger Examorata said...

Aww, these are awesome! I should dig up some old letters and post them on my blog. It's a good idea!

2:39 PM  

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