Whodoya Love?

January 2001

(per request of the loyal following, all pages will show when updated...
Babble is done most frequently, so it is good to bookmark this page for changes....)

Yup, it's me again. Why did I call? I dunno, guess cos it's been ten years and I was wondering how you were doing. What? Only six years? Wow, has time gone by. And you're married. YOU SUCK. I hope she gives you all sorts of warts in all sorts of places.

It's not like I'm not involved. I'm still with that same guy who I scored at the first annual divorce party. That's three years now. (Can you believe it's taken THIS long to detach legally from someone?) In the meantime I've gotten five kids. Let me explain, NO, I did not give birth. I'm not going to pull a Kate Bush, have a kid, and then tell you about it five years later. I got rats.

I love my rats. They're the best dogs I have ever had. The only difference is, they pee in the appropriate location. Truth is, there's nothing cooler than having a little 14 ounce of fuzz ball snuggling up on my shoulder trying to steal my dinner.

What else do I love? I'm back on the sci-fi thing. In my high school year book, I was voted most likely to marry Dr. Who and have a bunch of wholettes.(Look it up, it's in there.) It's twisted having neurotic erotic dreams about being on Stargate or Red Dwarf. What's wrong with me? I don't quite know, but neither do the professionals, so it's okay. At the reunion at Calarts, I got to hang out with an old friend, Shannon, who is now on the sci-fi channel on a show I love, The Invisible Man. Chat about old times or giggle about plot lines? I was too goofy to figure out which to do, so I had a drink instead. She rocks though, so I hope the show lasts awhile.

Love. Uhm. Well I'm not very good at it. I feel bad for my boyfriend at times because I don't do that old ga-ga thing like I did when I was involved with other men. You know what I'm talking about. The going to the card shops and finding THE card. The breakfast in bed every Sunday morning. The tireless backrubs. I think this man is lucky if I let him have the remote control. If I don't microwave a dinner, he knows it will be a good night.

Here's the rub about the Love thing. You go looney tunes over a guy, and then a few months later, when the circus has left town you figure out if you're left with the clown, the popcorn vendor, or the elephant. That's usually the exit cue. What sucks is when you marry the idiot before barker has stopped calling out the next act. Then you're stuck. (At least until the divorce is over three years later.)

So I'm with a NICE guy. There's not alot of fireworks, there's not alot of circus time. But what is there is a really deep kindness that I'm not used to accepting. There's also something else I never expected to find in my ripe old age of 36, relief. I'm relieved that I'm not chasing some dude around. I'm relieved that I'm not involved with the local bad ass. I'm relieved that the tests are negative.

Do I miss the giddy excitement stuff? Well, sometimes I wish the magic love fairy would swoop down and charge my battery. I sometimes wonder if I'm too boring. I'm finally with a guy who doesn't mind if I have to go on the road with three other men, and I get pissed if he doesn't get jealous. At least a little. I guess I should not have given him an inflatable sheep for Christmas.

anyhoos... pass the word like a cootie