I am so tired of the way my face is breaking out. It does this in Houston, too, but thankfully the hot weather in MD doesn’t last as long. Plus, I have all these cute hoodies and sweaters and a blazer that I can’t wear yet, which make me look so much smarter than I actually am. 🙂 This heat, tho. It’s killing me because I can’t tell if it’s all acne or if some of it is heat rash because I walk so much. I am the classic Beezus “Pizza Face” Cleary right now, so I am doing my best to stay indoors for the time being. That way, I *can* wear all my cute hoodies and sweaters because Samantha keeps the A/C somewhere between lowboy and walk-in.
Speaking of Samantha, she and Dom left for Jamaica yesterday, and I miss her already. Last week I was feeling particularly down and she said, “Leslie, you are one of the nicest people I know.” It was a propos of nothing, which almost made me tear up in the parking lot at Target. It’s been a while since someone said something like that to me, and I needed to hear it as much as I needed air. This craziness with Dana and Argo made me forget who I was. I really am nice. I really am fun. I really am the person I thought I was, but I have made some mistakes that made me forget it. I think slowing down has helped. Because I don’t have a set schedule, I am not one of those people that gets rattled by much. I have time to help when I see people in need. I have time to stop veterans on the street and simply say, “thank you for your service.” I have time to be the person that I want to be, instead of the characterizations that have been made for me.
It is not as if I didn’t do anything to deserve them; I just didn’t know how to overcome them, either. I realized that I couldn’t fix what had been broken with either Argo or Dana, and it destroyed me into thinking I was a bad person that didn’t deserve anything because I couldn’t see how to get there from here. Argo said long ago that she couldn’t believe she’d allowed me to know some of her deepest secrets. It gutted me like a fish, partly because I haven’t told any of hers, and partly because she’s told all of mine, as if the line of communication only went one way. I didn’t realize that I was up for discussion, and when I found out, I was livid, especially because I believed she’d gone to the one person who couldn’t trust me as far as she could throw me, anyway, so how could it have ever been a case of “maybe you’re looking at this the wrong way.” I was rebelling hardcore against her secrets because they were separating me from Dana at a high rate of speed. I firebombed the relationship on purpose, and now that I am single, I wish like hell I could take it all back. Every single mean thing I said, every time I sent her unwanted advances because it was the one thing that I knew would push her away the easiest. If I had been in my right mind, I would have ended the relationship with Dana sooner so that Argo and I could have had that bubble unto ourselves without it being this toxic triangle of enormous proportions. It wasn’t choosing Argo over Dana- I broke up with Dana the moment we got to Houston because I felt like I couldn’t trust her. I’d put up with her “accidentally” forgetting I’d told her not to tell people things long enough. I also made a mistake in telling someone Argo’s real name. It never should have happened, and I own that sin wholeheartedly. No one should have known, but it was before I knew the direction our relationship was going to take and honestly, I’d forgotten until it blew up in my face. Otherwise, I would have changed her pseudonym yet again. Someone suggested “Cheerios” since she’s a mom. I liked that. ‘Sup Cheerios had a ring to it…. a synecdoche like calling a car “wheels.”
I also didn’t like that she loved reading my blog when it was about someone else, and not so much when it was about her. Did she think that she was supposed to disconnect from the fact that I was a writer? That I could be trusted to write around our privacy? I told her in no uncertain terms that I would take the entire site down if it made her uncomfortable, and she didn’t even recognize that I’d made that sacrifice in the first place. To even whisper it was more than I’d done for anyone, ever. She means more to me than my silly blog ever will, and before you say that I’d be giving up a lifeline, no. I wouldn’t. I’d be gaining the world of anonymity. I would have found a way to write using my plenty of pseudonyms in a galaxy far far away. But this iteration could burn and I wouldn’t even watch it go for one more letter.
Samantha is right. I am a different person now. Dana and I used to end our evenings with cocktails. There’s nothing wrong with that, per se, but I didn’t realize how much it was affecting my medication and its efficacy. The last cocktail I had was at the Meetup, and I think I had a beer when my mom was here. That is quite a bit different than cocktails every single night. What drove that home was having my Dana-normal amount when my dad was here and sleeping all the way home in the car. I realized I had become quite the cheap date, and I’ve stuck to it. My tolerance has gone back to zero, and I just can’t hang.
I have developed an unnatural addiction to Haribo Happy Cola instead. Seriously, if I could mainline them, I would. Not every store has them, so I have been known to wander the streets of DC, stopping into every drug store and grocery store along the way. When in a pinch, 7-Eleven sells a knockoff that’s pretty tasty, but it’s not the same. They are, however, more tolerable than no gummy cola bottles at all. Last time Samantha had to make a cigarette run, I went with her so I could get some gummy cola bottles. That particular 7-Eleven didn’t carry them, and I was furious until I went to pick out a soda and they had both regular and diet Cheerwine in 20 oz bottles in the cold case. I only bought one, and then I went to a couple of different 7-Elevens and they didn’t have it.
Why God. WHY? Why didn’t I realize that I should have bought more?!
It takes so little to make me happy these days. I should stop focusing on my lack of Happy Cola and Cheerwine and start focusing on the tea that I bought. I wish I could remember the name of the store, but it’s in Rockville down the street from Noodles & Company. They carry more flavors of Republic of Tea than Whole Foods, so I bought a hi-caf breakfast black. I thought to myself, “I have to go to Whole Foods, anyway. I should just wait.” I bought it anyway because I knew I would kick myself if I got to Whole Foods and they didn’t have it. I did go to Whole Foods. They did not. I smiled with being right.
I am also waiting somewhat impatiently for Girl Scout cookies, because as a tea fan, there is nothing better than a box of Trefoils. I should get some sticks of Walker’s to hold me over. In Portland, we had a Scottish shop that had lots of imported food, and one of the things I found was Walker’s with butterscotch chips. I don’t think I’ve had a better cookie in my life, especially after dipping it into a particularly strong cuppa of PG Tips. Tea is just another reason I’m waiting for it to get cold again. It’s kind of weird to be sitting out on the porch in 90 degree weather with hot tea and biscuits, but I do it anyway. You can fix most things with a cup of tea.
Even a broken heart.