People You Were Never Meant to See Again

There are certain people in your life who you know only briefly, and who you will never see again.

You get an email one day, and you think "Well, that's that. Fuck him. Yeah. Right. I totally don't care. Not one bit. What a dick. Whatever. Fuck him. He's an idiot anyway, who doesn't know a good thing when its right in front of him. Asshole. He's such a mess and will always be. I couldn't care less, but still. Why am I sad about this when I always knew this was temporary? I knew it was going to end. But still."

People come and go, and with some people, you don't care. But every now and then you feel that last sentiment - it's not despair or actual sadness, it's more like disappointment.

I saw one of these people last night, one of these people I shouldn't have ever seen again. One of these people who, in my mind, has become fiction. He's a story, a song, a sadness. I don't feel sad about him, or us, but I feel sad about that time in my life. I feel sad not to have a specific feeling anymore. I feel sad because I know how things turned out.

It was weird, because this person was secret in my life when I knew him. He didn't know any of my friends, I knew none of his, it was this little side project that I enjoyed for a while and told virtually nobody about. I didn't tell anyone how I really felt. I said "Yeah, there's this guy whatever its something to do." But that's not how I felt. I felt "Dear god this guy is so awesome and I can't comprehend at all why he is hanging out with me and I know there is no chance so whatever but this is fun anyway." I introduced him to my friends last night and it was awkward, because I realized that I donn't know (or maybe I just don't remember) much about him other than what and where his tatoo is and how much I enjoyed hiding in his room spying on his neighbors in Somerville.

We didn't last long - I think I saw him a total of six times - and I haven't really thought of him since I received that email over a year and a half ago.

I hadn't realized, until last night, however, what a profound impact this person had on my life, on my personality, on who I am now. I had no idea.

I think this is the source of sadness. It's the intangibles. I now listen to and love certain bands because he said "I think you might like this..." This boy had a profound influence over my musical taste. He made my mind explode. My songs are a certain way because I listened to his songs. I am aware of things I wasn't aware of until I met him. Like the fact that I can apparently date and be cute with and about someone I've just met. I guess these things mean something in the longterm, even though they mean nothing at the time.

I listened to his CD over and over when I met him. We talked about collaborating. I knew we never would.

Last night I saw him play and I couldn't stop thinking "I shouldn't be here. I'm not supposed to know him anymore. He's not supposed to actually exist. He's an awkward memory. A regret. He's a neuron I no longer want."

Coupled with the weirdness was this sense of serenity. It was so very lovely. I felt like I got to experience something I wasn't supposed to get to experience. It was one of those things - you know, the things you wanted to do with someone but never got to because things ended too soon. The trips you were planning! The furniture you'd buy! The kids' names! I'd never seen him play until last night in my new life in New York City, where he now lives as well.

I don't know him at all, but I know that hearing him play last night meant something to me. I don't really know what. I guess maybe it was closure. Or acknowledgment. Or just really good, beautiful music.

High Maintenance

D bought a new, grown-up couch. He is very cute when excited about these sorts of things. He said "I am suddenly aware of my aging... now that I have a couch."

His apartment is small, and there are a limited number of conformations in which the furniture can be. He arranged the furniture into Scheme 1 and declared "We will try this for a week and see what we think."

The new conformation involves sleeping against a wall, underneath two bikes and alongside the area where his paintings are stored.

We hung out for a bit last night, talked, caught up, and then started to fall asleep. I closed my eyes and rolled over. About five minutes later I opened my eyes and yelled "Dear god holy shit that is the scariest thing ever you have to move this RIGHT NOW!" because I found my head right next to a painting of George Bush's head. This is a giant painting with a bunch of public figures, and the Dubya face is slightly bigger than an actual human head.

"It's not that its a bad painting but... I just don't want to... I can't sleep next to Dubya! It's awful to open your eyes and see... well, see HIM!"

D was all put it out and huffy and "Fine" and moved the painting to behind the new couch.

I am high maintenance.

Gridlock

While I was in Medway this weekend, I ended up playing Checkers with Sister's Boyfriend SS while Sister engaged in a heated Battleship competition with D.

I'd originally hoped we'd play Connect Four, but when I opened the box and also found a Checker Board, I was tempted. I said "SS, would you prefer Checkers or Connect Four?"

He thought long and hard, and finally said "Checkers."

I was excited but concerned, as I haven't played Checkers in nearly two decades.

We set up the board and started to play. It was uneventful for a while. No close calls, no jumps, no suspense, nothing.

We played for about 10 minutes, and then it happened: GRIDLOCK.

I played Checkers a lot as a kid and this never happened. I've never even heard of this happening. It makes sense, but man. Bizarre! Basically, we moved all the pieces in the perfect order such that my three rows shifted one row forward and SS' three rows shifted one forward and the game ended.

There was nowhere to go. Nobody jumped anyone. We were just stuck. It's as though we'd set up the board wrong, or the board had been missing two rows.

I am trying to figure out if this means that we are both really good, that we are both really bad, or that we think alike.

I am also trying to figure out why this doesn't happen more often.

Bizarre, though.

In other news, The Temp has started and I am fairly certain I know him from somewhere. He looks and seems really familiar. He also said that I seem familiar to him. I think we must have just seen each other on the T or something (he spent the same 7 years in Boston that I did). Maybe we commuted at similar times for a few years. I don't know. It's driving me a bit crazy, though.

The weekend was good, although I am exhausted, as usual.

I went to see 40 Year Old Virgin on Friday night, and it was awesome. It was nearly perfect. It was sweet and funny and I was so pleased by the reverence the film showed for its lead character. Rather than poke fun of him and his lack of experience, they made him into a completely believable and sympathetic hero. You almost rooted for him not to lose his virginity. Freaking adorable. You must all see it immediately.

The night was not without its drama. One of the reasons I moved away from Boston was to escape drama. I wanted to be completely in control of my life, my decisions, and to surround myself with sane, grounded, drama-free relationships. I experienced my first moment of drama on Friday night and it did not feel good. I don't like when I am made to feel bad for being a good person and for doing the right thing, for not being psychic, for being mature and grownup and inclusive.

The drama made me feel dirty during the movie. Additionally, before the movie even began, the iniator of said drama thrust a $20 bill in D's face and forcefully demanded "Get me a large popcorn and a diet coke." D said "OK" and ran off to purchase a large popcorn and diet coke despite the fact that he'd purposefully bought food beforehand so as not to have to wait in line at a movie concession stand on a crowded Friday night.

Who does that? First of all, get your own damn popcorn! I can understand if he'd said "I'm getting a popcorn" and then the bill was handed to him. Second of all, if you are really so put out by getting your own damn popcorn, say "Hey, would you mind getting me a popcorn? Thanks!" instead of throwing money at someone and forcing them to. Third of all, if you are there with a friend of yours, force him to get it instead of someone else's boyfriend.

Weird power maneuver. I said nothing until the following day, when I said "D, do you think its a little rude of someone to force someone to get them popcorn when they are completely capable of getting it themselves?" and he said "That's just how it is." I said "Well, I don't think that's cool. Why can't she just ask you nicely?" "That's how she is. It's easier to just get the popcorn than say something about it." Understandable, given the high drama quotient of this individual. I guess I want D to be treated nicely and appreciated. Not that getting someone a popcorn is such a big deal, but man. Say "Please" and "Thank you." I would never say "D, get me a popcorn!" and if I ever did, I would want him to be like "Excuse me?" and then I could say "Oh, sorry, would you mind? I'm really tired and I don't feel like waiting in line." Except that I would never do that, because I'd wait in line for my own popcorn no matter what unless someone was already going. This conversation snowballed into D thinking that I was mad at him for getting the popcorn, that I was uncomfortable with his relationship with her, that he has to do something different, etc. I said "No, I think I am uncomfortable with this person's very existence. Like if a male friend of yours had done that, I'd still be like 'Dude, rude!' and if she had done it to the friend she brought, I'd have been like 'Dude, rude!'" I also said "I just don't get her. I don't like how she is with you when I am around, and I don't like how she is to me when you are around. She can't deal with us together, you know? This would be like my being at a movie with like you, A and her boyfriend M, and then turning to A's boyfriend and declaring 'Get me a popcorn!' Isn't that weird?" He realized it was and said he understood and we have decided that we will never hang out all together again.

He said "But you should totally hang out with her separately still," and I said "Dude, why would I want to hang out with someone who indirectly antagonizes me when you are around? What kind of friend is that?" Drama. Don't need it. Unfortunate evening. Oh well.

Should I play nice? If she won't, why should I? I think what got to me most is her failure to play nice with people who aren't even D and I. This is messy, and I don't want the drama. I probably wouldn't have been upset about the popcorn if I wasn't already seething about the previous 7th grade lunchroom behavior I had to suffer.

After 40 Year Old Virgin we went for drinks and I wanted to strangle people. I had one glass of wine and was drunk, thank god. We left and packed and didn't get enough sleep before departing for Boston.

The bus ride took less than three hours, and we headed to Somerville for a burrito! We then walked to Hall Street, where we lounged and engaged in the rare pleasure of watching TV. We then headed to Harvard Square, where we shopped and frolicked and where I felt like I missed things. We met up with a bunch of people for dinner at Cambridge One, then headed to Finale for desserts, where we obsessed about old candy from the 80's. We then sought out said candy at CVS. We sat outside because the weather was perfect and because it was quiet and there was grass to sit on, and because I don't have these things anymore. We then had more drinks outside. I laughed too much about things I'd completely forgotten and enjoyed hearing Brother's honesty about his summer.

On Sunday we had breakfast at Rosebud and then headed to Medway for Brother's going-away party. It was overwhelming and crazy. Coming home from afar is not easy. It was nice to see everyone, but all I wanted to do was hide in the cool basement with Sister, SS, LBF, and D. I wanted to play Candyland and have an uninterrupted conversation. I wanted to relax and not say the same things over and over. "New York is good," "I think things are going well between us?," "Buenos Aires was awesome," "Yes, my apartment is as small as my father claims it is but you don't need 1200 square feet to live stop making fun of my apartment because at least I don't have 40 zillion knicknacks that require 1000 square feet for themselves there are other ways to live why can't you just be happy for me?!?"

It wasn't that bad. It was just a prime example of the feeling-14-again-phenomenon and I don't like it. Not one bit. I don't like people laughing at my apartment. I feel like I should then start laughing at how long it takes them to mow their lawns or something. I'm exaggerating. I was just in a bad mood because Mother made copies of a photo of "the family" and in it was the five of us and our three significant others, which made me feel like I couldn't breathe because all I could think about was 3 sets of this photograph on people's refrigerators with D's head cut out or and one with D's head replaced with a cutout of Christian Bale's face. Mother said "Please, don't worry, this is just now. You're happy now. This doesn't need to be up forever, honey" but this was after her speech about how happy she is that we've all found amazing significant others and that we're all together for Brother's special day and that we're all finally so happy! Ah, the pressure.

I had a good time, though. It was nice to see everyone.

We got in at about 2am last night and despite sleeping on the train and getting a good five hours' sleep here, I am still fried. Too much getting up early and getting to sleep too late.

I will, however, be doing nothing tomorrow night! Yeah! Watch out, Duane Reade and Gristedes. I am going to run errands! HAH! It's been ages since I purchased groceries.

I am going to buy eggs! And milk! And I may even buy vegetables! Whoa. Take it easy.

Until tomorrow...