I could really use a wish right now

So.

I went to Screen on the Green the other night, and it was magical. For the first time in an eon the temperature was comfortable (ok, Sunday was the first time in an eon, but also, it was pouring rain so meh), the Mall was fresh smelling, Henry Fonda was on the big screen and shooting stars were, well, shooting across the sky.

Also, I totally am OK.

I know that statement sounds like a nonsequitur, but let me 'spain. (There is no time. Let me sum up.) Remember High School Ex, who gave me the demons I exorcised many moons ago on this very space. No? GREAT! Me neither. Well that's a lie from a search of the blog (dudes, he got married last summer to the girl he left me for, give a girl a break) but for the most part, it's true.

Well that changed Monday night.

As I sat at Screen on the Green, prior to magical stars and magical Henry Fondas, I was chatting with Chelsea and my work bestie Rosemary. Chelsea was on her way out, because she had gotten there a LITTLE earlier than I had and had had her good time already, and Rosemary and I were going to take her spot(s). This was good, because Rosemary had a friend coming, and you know my ass is big. Chelsea peaced out and the movie started and I settled in for some really awesome Law and Order action, circa 1957. Until Rosemary's friend showed up.

And my work bestie's life bestie was High School Ex's college bestie.

A little confused? Let me put it this way. If you were going to spend a few hours with a guy who is still in touch with the ex-boyfriend who, despite having exorcised said demons about, still gave you a helluva time in your 20s about commitment and trust and feeling fat, who is also now married, you'd like to maintain an air of "my life is so awesome and yours is so not, ya bastard, not that I even care" would you prefer:

1. To be dressed in sweaty gym clothes that are baggy and tight in all the WRONG places, recently heartbroken, and with grass sticking out of your hair, crumbs on your face, and generally looking not your, you know, best?
2. The opposite of the above.

Guess which one describes me?

I sat there for the duration of the movie, enjoying it, but totally stiff and freaked out that a very good friend of HSE's was sitting just three feet away, and I was not in a good place in life, much less the SUPER fantastic place I would prefer when this inevitably happened (I mean, there are 6 billion people in the world, but of course it was inevitable). As we walked away from the movie, he asked if I had been in touch.

Ha.

Which is what I said. Ha - no. Things didn't really end very well between us. I strapped my helmet on my head, as though to protect myself from the rain of questions about my life which mercifully never came. We just kind of stood there, awkwardly, as Rosemary tried to get over the weirdest coincidence of 2010 (for her) and then finally, we all bid each other adieu.

As I biked home, I started to weep.

But then I stopped. Sure, it would have been awesome to be adorable and to have Grad School Ex still be Grad School BF and be sitting there next to me, but that's life dudes. Just like being 21 and having my heart shattered by a guy who - lucky him! - had found his soulmate was pretty much par for the game as well.

Zennnnn.

Sometimes things just happen. And sometimes those things blow. And it's the other stuff - taking control of your life, racing in your first triathlon, helping your beloved sister get a job she loves, getting your first paycheck at a new job, and sitting on the Mall as shooting stars roll across the sky - that makes the shitty things pale in comparison.

well, that worked, didn't it

blah. i am writing in all lower cases today. not because i'm sad or anything, but because it's time to fucking shake some shit up.

oh yes. i am cursing a lot today too.

i totally fucking failed at posting this past week because i lack inspiration to do anything. not in the depressed way (no seriously - i'm taking the happy pills!). and actually, that's not true - i have motivation. i feel like chandler in the friends episode with the geller bowl: "Thats not true. I wanted to wear my bathrobe and eat peanut clusters all day. I wanted to start drinking in the morning. Don't say I don't have goals!"

so i guess i'm chandler and Grad School Ex is janice? sweet!

anyway, i'm not even that broken up about it. don't get me wrong - i'm sad. like, legitimate amounts of sad. i sit around (not at lot, but enough) being like "but i want to know that HE misses ME. like a lot. LIKE MORE THAN I MISS HIM." i also make demands of my friends and family like, feel me more alcohol. or "but tell me why i have to move again, i fucking love this apartment."

but?

i'm not shattered. not at all. for example, i have gotten dressed and left the house every day this past week. sometimes, i put on make-up! (and that's only sometimes anyway). i went swimming with ramona yesterday, and had dinner with emma o last night, and have plans today, and tomorrow, and wednesday. life is OK.

s'not great. but s'ok.

unfortch, one big fat side effect is that most of the time i just want to drink, watch law and order, and curse at people. this precludes blogging. and all i want to do is blog. i want to blog about the big fucking injustice it is that lilu is not going to be mtv's next TJ. i want to blog about not having a car and how i've realized this makes me Not a Real Person in a lot of people's eyes. i want to blog about my new career as an unpaid wedding planner, and how it's made me happier than anything else in the world. i want to blog about that happiness making me realize - yet again - that when all you want is the ability to throw a big fucking party, maybe you shouldn't be getting married. i want to blog about shirley sherrod, and how andrew breitbart is a douchefarter, and how the one friend of mine on facebook who tried to defend him got defriended, stat.

but i can't.

i can watch law and order. and i can drink an entire bottle of cook's before seeing a LOT of mutual friends of mine and GSE's on saturday, which either made me seem TOTES breezy (nuther friends quote there for ya) or TOTES... well. sad. i can write in small caps, and i can try my hardest to start the couch to 5K program today.

tomorrow, i can try to blog. hope i see you then!!

People Who Rock. People Who Suck.

Yeah, this isn't about the earthquake. Cause I didn't feel it, at all. And I wake up if my toe rubs... another toe in slightly the wrong way.

People Who Rock:

1. My mom for coming to visit on Monday;
2. J. Jeter for coming to stay in August;
3. DC Laura, Becky and Chelsea for whisking me away to the shore this weekend;
4. Ramona, Leah and Julie for scheduling bi-weekly happy hours (which sure, are not about me per se, but are certainly being started with that in mind, ehem);
5. Becca and Anne, who are in the thickest part of the thick of the bar exam, and yet still are just being the best friends a girl could have;
6. My new work friends, and esp my new work bestie (who I think we will call Rosemary) for being ridiculously nice to a girl they barely know as she plods through; and
7. All of the above friends, AND Arielle, Dexter, Maggie, Emma O, NY Laura, Emilia, Eva, Talia, NY Samantha, and so many more (remind me if I've forgotten you) AND to all of you out there in cyber, all of whom have just been the absolute best salve to a blistering, oozy, painful fucking break up.

People Who Suck:

1. Grad School BF;
2. GSBF;
3. GSBF;
4. GSBF;
5. Chris Christie. Either until he fucking stops hating on cops and teachers (the very people who you know, MAKE SOCIETY RUN IN A CIVIL WAY), he is number five on the people who suck list. Because he sucks, times five;
6. GSBF; and
7. Life. Boo.

I'm going to the shore this weekend friends, and then I'm making a new year's resolution to not talk about the break-up for a week. AND also to actually post. So right - to post every day for a week without posting about the break-up. Yippee. I'm fucking excited for it.

That's a lie. I'm not excited for anything. I'm just ridiculously sad.

Or maybe we just stopped trying... to put lyrics to life

So Grad School BF is leaving on Friday. That means that at approximately 8am Friday morning, I am a single woman. Not so much free, but single. Originally I had that "when a heart breaks no it don't break even" song as my theme for the break-up, so it would be appropriate at this point to quote it - I got time while HE got freedom.

But it wouldn't be accurate.

Rather, I'm somewhere between a sad, angry mess of myself, and 100% the girl I was before this all went down. Example? I'm super excited for decorating a new place, and so heartbroken about leaving my haven of an apartment I'm literally welling up as I type this. I have a massive crush on a coworker, but I can't imagine not being with Grad School BF. Speaking of GSBF, I'm absolutely livid with him, think he's making a massive mistake (yes, it was "mutual," but is it ever entirely thus?) and still want to scratch his back before we go to sleep at night.

(One's still in love while the other one's leaving)

Nah. A more appropriate song, I decided back when I went to the James Taylor and Carole King concert in Newark a few weeks ago, is "It's Too Late" by Carole King. "Something inside has died and I can't hide and I just can't fake it." Somewhere along the past few weeks I realized that we were really over. That nothing I could do or say would change that. And more importantly, trying to do or say things without any response was just going to devastate my pride, my dignity, and myself in the end.

It's funny how a theme song can change you. When I was in my last year of college, I listened to "Somebody to Love" on loop, and when I moved to New York I dated the first coworker I found who made me crack up. When we broke up, my roommate wisely said "but are you upset about breaking up with HIM? Or just breaking up. Like, not being in a relationship."

I wish she wrote a damn song about THAT.

Actually, there is one, and it's "Falling in Love with Love." I listened to quite a lot of that particular tune about six months after the break-up, when I finally convinced my coworker that we WEREN'T going to be best friends again, that him stopping by my office was a really TERRIBLE idea, and that there was no way in hell that I was "just going to get over it."

Four months later, I was mostly better.

When I was denying that I was TOTES IN LUUUUURVE with GSBF back last spring, I listened to one of Joey and my favorite songs - "I Won't Say I'm in Love."

I also listened to a lot of Taylor Swift, but there's no accounting for taste.

And so it is no surprise to me that the change I made over theme songs for the break-up had a marked improvement over my mood. From sad, denial me I went to angry, but resigned MA, HEAR HER ROAR.

Ok I'm still sad.

But the difference between THIS me, and the one in the months prior to "Falling in Love with Love" is that I'm not miserable. I've lost no self-esteem. Essentially - I'm still alive and completely breathing. And turning up Carole King on my iPod.

Grumpy bugger

So.

I'm not yet adjusted to this workweek nonsense, clearly, and I miss you all terribly which makes me super duper cranky and whiny and I'm sure, in general, a big fucking joy to be around.

However.

When I was talking about being sleepy and cranky and generally very pleased to be at work but not just yet USED to it yesterday, I used the following words: titchy. Wanker. Bloody.

Splendid!

You see, I've been reading a shitton more now that I'm commuting again, and most of the books I like to read are British. Chick lit, Jane Austen, Harry Potter. And when I READ British people writing, it makes me think I AM British.

I am not. I am New Jerseyan.

And yet as my day rolls on I find myself speaking somewhere between Queen Elizabeth II, Shakespeare, and Emily from Friends. I don't know why I do it, but I do know that I can't stop.

Who'd WANT to anyway??

For now I must be off, but do know that I am trying very hard to return to you all as soon as is possible given the - you know - job and all, and that I'm thinking of you oh so fondly as I sit on the metro reading pink covered books.

Ta-ta!

Lastly, TODAY IS VOTING DAY for LiLu's BIG FUCKING AWESOME CHANCE to be MTV's first TJ (Twitter Jockey, c'mon now). Make sure you guys are friends on facebook, and then go VOTE!!!!! Here. At 11am.

People Who Rock. People Who Suck.

People Who Rock:

1. My new company, for employing me and in doing so essentially ensuring that I will not have to file for bankruptcy in the next few months;
2. My new work bffs who I am not going to name because let's be honest, it's been one week and probably we'll hate each other before long, but for now! For now they simply rock;
3. Lauriol Plaza for having some seriously yummy margaritas and no compunction about serving them to girls who are pretty clearly wasted;
4. My parents and my dad's parents - happy anniversaries this weekend!!;
5. My friends named Laura for checking in and inviting me to the shore (respectively), my friend Becky for prohibiting her fiance to live with Grad School BF after we break-up, my friend Becky's fiance (who needs a name... suggestions?) for being the sweetest guy ever, my friend Julie for scheduling "Julie and MA drunk Mondays", Becca for being selfless even when her shit is hitting the fan, Leah and Ramona for checking in all the time, Emma (I think Emma O?) for planning Gilmore Girls parties, and everyone else who I'm sure I'm forgetting (super sorry) for just being generally RIDICULOUSLY supportive and lovely;
6. James Taylor and Carole King. BEST CONCERT EVER; and
7. The Dutch. Yes I am cheering for the Netherlands in this World Cup. I have my reasons. They are multifold.

People Who Suck:

1. The Metro at 6am. Not because it actually sucks. But because it REALLY fucking sucks to be on it then;
2. The girl who slipped a note under our door yesterday inviting GSBF for a drink. Cue massive breakdown;
3. Lauriol Plaza for having some seriously yummy margaritas and no compunction about serving them to girls who are pretty clearly wasted. Yes they both rock and suck for this. My head is THROBBING;
4. Apartments in DC. Please come to me, don't make it the other way around;
5. Chris Christie. Either until he fucking stops hating on cops and teachers (the very people who you know, MAKE SOCIETY RUN IN A CIVIL WAY), he is number five on the people who suck list. Because he sucks, times five;
6. My old grad school for not giving me the nearly $3000 they owe me (yet). I'm FUCKING POOR PEOPLE AND HAVE TO PAY RENT; and
7. Ghana. I almost feel bad for this, cause I actually did want them to beat Forlan (he is a person who sucks. Orrrr just a douchebag) but honestly, you beat my boys, and then you couldn't get it together to win in PKs to make me feel better about having lost to you by you guys getting to the semis. Suckers!!

I know it's Saturday, but whatevs dudes, I make the rule. I'm going to go nurse my hangover and watch some soccer and hope that this week rocks a little more than the last.