Saturday, February 17, 2007

oye, crazy ...

when i was 22 and living in rochester, i knew a man who lost his mind over an illegible fax. i saw it happen. one minute he was relatively fine, the next minute he was throwing a tirade over smeared letters on a sheet of paper that resembled an old fashioned xerox. he had this tendency. unbalanced and toeing crazy like he was wearing a unitard and waiting for the shotgun start. a conversation would start out somewhat sane. then he would go a little bug-eyed, then cross-eyed and pretty soon it was a full-fledged rant with mad gesturing and spit bubbles. you would back away, nodding. making sure your hands were visible. the blurred fax was the final nudge.

he was escorted to a hospital, padded walls, plastic shaving kits and baby aspirin soon after.

"c'mon," hank said after the news had spread and get-well-soon cards had been signed. "who wouldn't want to spend a month on vacation in a padded room playing balloon volleyball?"

as soon as he said that, it clicked. balloon volleyball, indeed. as an athlete, i decided that if i ever had the opportunity to be clinically insane or sent away to rehab, i would embrace my fate with knee pads and a jersey.

***

there should be a law against this: your boyfriend and your best friend -- your only friend -- leaving town during an overlapping span of time. i dropped chuck off at the airport yesterday; jcrew left for the cities to travel to her exotic locale today. and here i sit.

i decided that i would use my days away from these two forces of nature as a time to collect myself. clean my apartment. nuzzle toonses. start running again. complete entire to-do lists. put myself in a self-imposed rehab. a padded room. bounce balloons against my bedroom wall. let chuck return to a better version of me and jcrew return to a more clear, focused, funnier version of me. a version that recognizes fine wines, cheeses and a good sale price on a hot shirt.

***

today i was missing chuck, which was silly. he had been gone only about 26 hours. maybe more than the 26 hours, i was thinking of the next however many hours that he will be gone. i've not yet passed the apex: the point where he will return in fewer days than he has been gone. one time we pinkie swore that we would never go three days without seeing each other. and we always did. that was before we started hanging out every single day. and for a great vacation to see friends in a fun city, catch a sunburn, take great photos and celebrate 80 degree temps -- these astricks have ammended the pinkie swear.

that said, how quickly i've become that girl.

i lived a pretty solid existance for almost 31 years before i knew chuck. and sometimes it sucked, but more often it was great and happy and unencumbered by such things as feelings and emotions and purposefully binge drinking away the minutes until he returns.

"dude," i said to my silly self. "i existed in duluth for almost six years without knowing chuck. i think i can handle a few more days."

then i'd pass a car the same color as his car, that is the color of something not found in nature. i was driving down lake avenue when i wondered: what did i do when i didn't know chuck? i will have to scour the archives of my former blog to know for sure. but i'm pretty sure bears only a passing resemblence to anything i have any desire to do now.

making it worse is that he is having actual fun. so my "i'm glad you're having fun, really i am" is tainted with jealousy. for his mexican wrestling matches, i have "today i invented my own new version of pasta." for his portraits of cityscapes i have "today i watched seven episodes of 'what about brian?' on the internet."

***

so, for all my talk of bravado. for all my plans of self-imposed-rehab and to-do lists and balloon volleyball, i have this:

1. a mad sprint to the hammond at 11:45 p.m.
2. a mid-level bottle of cab sav
3. a huge gaping wine glass
4. grey's anatomy, men in trees, ugly betty and what about brian marathons
5. a promise to myself that i wouldn't post this photo with this sentiment: (although 1, 2 and 3 seem to have gotten in the way)

i miss this face.



i used to be so tough. now i'm just going to get drunk and listen to no. 2 on the newest killer's cd on repeat. booyah.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

A friend once ventured that if one N brother could be valedictorian, the other (and you know the one) could be captain of his group home's balloon volleyball team.

First time reading the new blog. Where's the genitalia references?


-- Oregon

Barrett said...

He ain't that hot.

Beret said...

You forgot to add "doodle the names of our future children" on your to-do list. That's what I always did when we were apart. Then I'd look at the paper and shake my head wondering what the HELL happened to me.

nanners said...

it's 6:15 a.m. and i am reading your blog before my flight leaves. see how much i love you?