May 2017

https://www.ourladyoflustandgrace.com/who-puts-vodka-in-a-wine-spritzer.html

I sat on that article for the better part of a year.

Had my little flashback a few days ago and pulled it from the earth, gave it life, breath and post script.

I didn’t publish it at the time because, well, Giant cheated, and I kinda did too.

I was super fresh into things with someone.

So um ya, he read it.

Hello karma my old friend.

I was just about to type the words ‘in my defense’ but nah. I’ll own it.

Panda did spike her wine spritzer with 3 ounces of vodka but, Giant never should have stepped one foot in this house.
He was dating someone and that someone wasn’t me and had been for months by then.

I was dating someone, no matter how fresh out of the gate it was.
Fuck I just realized I am that racehorse that gets all revved up and ready to go and then backs up into the barn at the sound of the starter’s pistol. Dammit.

I’m telling all y’all it’s a sabotage. Beastie Boys

Except I am my own saboteur. I thought I was over that.

Survey says, not this time mama. Well, not that time. I managed to get it together after the fact.

I do that. Find something good and fuck it up.

I mean in the grand scheme of things I think I had been out with this guy once or twice, hadn’t slept with him yet but still. Bad manners at best. Giant too. It’s not like 130 pound me could really have held him down and had my way, the nickname Giant was anything but ironic. I said I felt drunk and wanted to stop drinking but he encouraged me to keep going. Also in the grand scheme of things I have lived with Panda for a good long while now, I know what she is capable of. I also know what I am capable of.

See there I go.

Justifying shit.

It’s still shit, it was stupid.

I didn’t publish it back then because I knew it was wrong and I didn’t want the guy I was dating to know.

Oh karma, you funny fucker.

He read it, yesterday.

No word for months. Thought I was blocked on everything, I wasn’t. Believed it to be so much truth I never tried to contact him. I don’t know where dead messages go and I had no desire to find out.

I honest to god with all of my being really believed he would be the ONE guy out of all the guys that went away and stayed there. Ain’t nobody got time for that. He doesn’t anyways. He is strong, super independent, busy and we really didn’t spend enough time together for me to be irreplaceable or anything even close to it. I mean I know he could pick me out of a line up but other than the fact that I like tacos, he doesn’t know much about me, nor I him.

I thought he was actually over it. I mean he said he was. As far as I know he never said one damned thing he didn’t mean. He isn’t a liar by any stretch of the imagination.

Speaking of lies.

Fuck am I ever glad he read it. It wasn’t really important. But I had the same relief as one gets when pulling out the tiniest of splinters, didn’t know it was bothering me until it was out.

It all seems so appropriate right now. We’re moving which in itself denotes change, lends itself quite nicely with catharsis, cleansing and purging of the old.

Everything that goes around comes around and the truth always comes out, exactly when it’s time and not a minute sooner.

Me – I blew the giant last night after someone (Panda) spiked her own wine spritzer with vodka and I thought I was drinking responsibly, sipping on wine and juice. Laid back. I didn’t get laid.

J – I love how your stories start out

Me – And now I find myself apologizing for one of my better blow jays

J- I’m sure he isn’t sorry

Me – He ‘doesn’t know how he feels about it’

J- Of course he doesn’t
Well did you at least have fun?

Me- honestly not sure, other than I give spectacular head when I am drunk.
And he tasted like spun sugar

J- I can honestly see that….you give great head regardless, I mean if you’re okay being the other woman….why not.

Me- I remember reaching over to turn a song up then a lap dance type thing and then he became my extra-large Slurpee

J- And who doesn’t love a Slurpee lol

Me- Giants apparently

J- You deserve more from someone than hey!….I miss you!….oh gotta go my gf is coming….but can’t wait to see you when I get back and she’s gone!….I think I may love you…no I do….but I can’t be with you….but I want to….but I’m gonna stick my dick in my gf real quick…..oh but I wish it was you….but I can’t….but I’ll string you along just enough cause I know you love me and will occasionally play with my penis.

Me- You just summed that up right nice. Add ‘if I do accidentally trip and stick my dick in your mouth that is totally your fault. Coo coo ka choo Mrs. Robinson’

So that happened, last year. It was a beautifully warm night in July maybe? August? We hadn’t been here long, but the porch was squared away, comfortable and twinkling with fairy lights and music. I think that was the first room we fixed up, I needed sanctuary, I don’t move well.

It’s 0 degrees Celsius today and the wind is wreaking havoc on my porch ripping curtains and toppling plants. Ya, that very same porch. I was having a smoke just now and somehow, despite the daylight and the absence of 30 degrees, my mind wandered back there. The song that started the whole thing came on…I knew I’d started writing an article about it way back when it happened, of course the working title was ‘who puts vodka in a wine spritzer’. Found it. My middle name is Archives after all.

I am not even sure what happened. He popped by with a bottle of wine maybe? One minute I was sipping and we were chatting, the next minute that song came on and I was in his lap then I was on my knees. He was sitting in the ‘daddy’ chair, time to throw that thing out methinks.

We are leaving this apartment. I know, I keep saying it. Still mentally preparing myself, like I do when I’m about to get a year older, I’ve been saying ‘almost 43’ starting in January. 42 was so good though, even with the accidental guilt trip laden blow jays and a lot of crying. So much crying.

We haven’t had consistent heat or hot water since the first week of March, my hands are freezing right now, I have two space heaters barely taking a dent out of the frosty air and I am wrapped in a blanket. My dog refuses to leave the cocoon she has made herself in my bed and I don’t blame her. I wish I was still there too.

I’m looking around the apartment thinking about all the things that have gone wrong and all the things that have gone right.

Panda and I have realized we are hetero life partners. We have plans to do a YouTube channel dedicated to our shenanigans with some make up tutorials and spoken word poetry thrown in for fun. We can’t do that here, it’s too small. Besides, I don’t even have a real closet. Me, the girl with the most clothes.

Hot Neighbor used to come by when we first moved from the back of the building to the front. He and my son got giggly stoned and built the bookshelf that sits to my left. But he has moved, no longer my neighbor, just some hot guy that used to pop by at the best moments. He left my movies by the back door and I haven’t seen him since.

The Giant was here quite often too, until the above happened. He then deemed me unsafe. Actually, truth be told, he never thought I was safe at all and since he is Safety Joe…that’d be why that never worked out. He was actually here more than the guy I dated after I moved into this place, strange but true. I will leave all those memories here.

I’ll keep the belly laughs, reaching a quarter million on ye olde blog. My inability to cook rice and the joke it became, Panda having a religious experience naked and drunk worshiping Beyoncé on the big screen. Clothing swaps, bottles and bottle and bottle of wine, days and days and days at the beach

Those things don’t take up room in boxes and make me feel light as a feather.