0.03762 milliseconds of drama

I have done many things in my life I regret. None, more than two months ago, when I let my drunk ex crash in my apartment. And let us say that "crash" is my euphamism for heavy petting/make out session in my bed. I knew he was dating someone, and for some reason it was only after a while did I ever ask about her. He replied that they were of course still together. They were in love. My heart skipped five beats and I felt blood rush to my face. Oh crap.

To make the story even seedier, I had to go to my friend's wedding the next morning. (In my embarrasement, I stayed the rest of the night in our guest bedroom.) I showered, tiptoed back into my room to grab my dress and makeup bag, while the ex was snoring away on my bed. I got ready. Then back in my bedroom, I left a diet coke, a bottle of advil, and a bottle of water by my bedside and ran off to find a taxi. Yes, kids I slinked away from my own apartment.

But that was two months ago. Last week, I recieved a phone message from that ex. I ignored it because I had better things to obsess with, such as Lobsterfest and work. And the truth is I am kind of busy. My professor tells me often what a disappoinment I am and that I really need to start working harder. He said he hardly sees me on the weekends anymore. Screw him. Why should I be inside on a beautiful summer day.

So while I should have been in the lab, I took yesterday off to go to the beach with A. The morning was perfect. We got on the 10:15 train to Manchester-by-the-Sea, and even the fiasco of buying the wrong kind of fare did not muddy our spirits. It was sunny not even a wisp of cloud in the sky. The sea breeze kept every thing in the 80's. The beach smelled salty. The sand was hot.

We brought snacks and lunch. We ate quickly to avoid the seagulls. I read my Entertaiment Weekly cover to cover.

About 3 hours later, we packed up our stuff. We headed back to the train station, buying ice cream cones on the way. I felt destressed. I felt rejuvinated from the sun. I felt happy.

Because it was such a nice day out. A and I decided to walk to Filene's Basement to get a last peek of their stuff before they closed for renovations. We were walking from North Station, with our beach bags, my hair still in braided pigtails. I was wearing a sheer hoodie and boardshorts. A bikini was underneath. A and I were talking about one of her favorite books "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter." And then:

I saw him, my ex. He was right in front of us, his left hand tightly holding onto a leggy blonde 24 year-old woman. The leggy blonde was his girlfriend. Sadly, I would be the worse witness ever because I have no idea what happened. I remember he was wearing a blue shirt and those glasses we had picked out together at Lenscrafters. And I remember waving, and his girlfriend not even looking at my direction.

Seriously, it happened so fast. I might said something. He might of said something. I could not tell you. All I know is that my feet never stopped moving. And A was the only cogent witness to this encounter. The momentary shock was strange. A and I kept walking and she said "so who was that?"

"Ummm," I replied, "that was the leprechaun."

"Oh, it was so quick and I did not even realize....."

We walked into the Filene's Basement and I had a panic attack. I turned to A and said "A, I cannot be in here right now. I need a beer. I need a beer ASAP."

She looked at me and said, "O my God. Of course."

We wander around Downtown Crossing looking for an open establishment. Finally, when we walked into the not so open Ivy restaurant. "Hi, are you open for a drink? I am kind of desperate."

The man in the black t-shirt and blue jeans looked at the two of us with our beach gear, and said "What, a hard day at Yoga class."

"No, I just ran into my ex-boyfriend and his 24 year-old blonde girlfriend."

He looked at me and "Of course, we are open. What do you want to drink. I have "the Knot" it was nice carmel overtones....."

I looked at him and said, "I really do not care, just give me something and fast."

He poured the whiskey in a shot glass. I downed it. I felt like I was in one of those teenage coming of age movies, because it burned so bad I started coughing.

"Good girl," he said. " I have to go downstairs and change but the bartender will take care of you. okay?"

A looked at me in shock. "I can't believed you just finished that."

My hands were shaking. Yes, it sucks to see your ex happy with some one else, but that was not my biggest problem. Why hadn't the blonde looked at me? Did she know? Wasn't I the bad person in this equation? Wasn't she the woman cheated on? I put my head down on the cool marble bar. The bartender poured me another whiskey and A got a beer. I drifted off into silence thinking about my guilt.

Luckily, for me I did have A with me. She talked me back into reality. We talked about her family and her trip to Costa Rica. I forced myself to laugh. Amazing how in how many ways you can delude yourself. I convinced myself that I was okay, and soon enough I was. When we left the bar, the bartender even commented that he was happy to see me smile.

By the time I got home. I was still fairly tipsy. I managed to shower. With my hair a complete wet mess, I lay down and fell asleep with my television blaring channel 38's movie of the week, "Roadhouse."

And that my friends, is the week's millisecond of drama.

Quiz

From MSN.com

"Think you might have an addiction to work? Ask yourself the following questions from workaholics-anonymous.org. If you answer "yes" to three or more, you may be a workaholic."

20 Questions: How Do I Know If I'm A Workaholic?

1. Do you get more excited about your work than about family or anything else?
2. Are there times when you can charge through your work and other times when you can't?
3. Do you take work with you to bed? On weekends? On vacation?
4. Is work the activity you like to do best and talk about most?
5. Do you work more than 40 hours a week?
6. Do you turn your hobbies into money-making ventures?
7. Do you take complete responsibility for the outcome of your work efforts?
8. Have your family members or friends given up expecting you on time?
9. Do you take on extra work because you are concerned that it won't otherwise get done?
10. Do you underestimate how long a project will take and then rush to complete it?
11. Do you believe that it is OK to work long hours if you love what you are doing?
12. Do you get impatient with people who have other priorities besides work?
13. Are you afraid that if you don't work hard you will lose your job or be a failure?
14. Is the future a constant worry for you even when things are going very well?
15. Do you do things energetically and competitively including play?
16. Do you get irritated when people ask you to stop doing your work in order to do something else?
17. Have your long hours hurt your family or other relationships?
18. Do you think about your work while driving, falling asleep or when others are talking?
19. Do you work or read during meals?
20. Do you believe that more money will solve the other problems in your life?

I answered yes to 9 of these. However, I think that most lawyers in NY would answer yes to at least 9 of the above as well. Are we all workaholics? Maybe...

Lobsterfest!

My sweet little Korean mother sends me the following e-mail Monday morning.

How was robster festival? was crowded? did you eat one for mom?
Anyway, I want you had fun and safe trip. M started her new job yesterday otherwise nothing new. Somehow this year Summer is cold and foggy we dress up with sweaters in the morning then short sleeve in the afternoon.
Hope, everything is well with you. I love you. mom

Well Mom, if you want to know more about the "robster" festival please click on the link. It is a story told by an e-mail coversation with Xtian and myself with photos supplied by Evil Twin #2. (Think of it as cross-over like when Murder She Wrote is on Magnum PI)

After the storm

It is raining today. Hard. Violent summer thunderstorms electrify the air. Instead of cleaning the air, all the rain has made it the whole city steamy and sticky. Maybe the dark pavement is cooking the water, maybe it is just a humid August day. But because the clean air smell is not there, it feels like a waste for a rain storm.

Last week was miserable. It was was hot and humid, the first official heat wave of the summer. Stupidly, I had sold my air conditioner on Craigslist. I had not used it in 4 years and I thought I would have no use for it now. And any other time that would have been a sound plan. I get most of my air conditioning needs during the day at work and at night I never get hot. Unfortunately, last week I came down with a case of strep throat, which lead into an ear infection. For much of the week during our first heat wave, I lay on my bed to hot and sticky to move. It was hard to distinguish what part was fever related and what was heat related.

Signs of my impending illness should have been obvious. I had spent the week before completely irritated with the world. My posting from last week was going to be a long rant about lazy people, incompetent people, people in general, and non people things. What I had felt was actually more than irritation, it was anger. When I talked to the administrative assistant in the Office of Financial Services, I could feel my carotid arteries tighten and pulsate. My fists clenched when I realized that the assistant had paperwork from 4 months ago that she had not processed, but had constantly assured us had been completed. There were more incidents like that and I was amazed how I did not punch someone. Beer tempered my mood, but only slightly.

Today, I look at the people on the T platform with there umbrellas. Weather.com says tomorrow is going to be warm and humid again. I guess after any kind of thunderstorm happens you kind of want a dramatic difference in the climate, but more often than not things just slowly return to normal.

(Went to Maine for the weekend. Special joint posting with the Hose to come....)