A Girl...

Stew

First, a clarification: As Simon said in the fifty-seventh comment (wow!), in this last incident there were two women involved and two separate phone conversations had. The first was from the meanie, the second was from another formerly-close-but-now-distant friend who showed how lovely and mature some people can be in tough situations. This friend also had reservations when Simon and I started dating (situational, not personal), but instead of saying she wanted to claw my eyes out like a rabid monkey, she told Simon she wasn't quite ready for us all to hang out yet but that with time she hoped things would turn out okay. A year from then, she came to one of Simon's gigs and there were hugs all around and everything was civil and friendly and adult. When she had her baby last year, we bought her the stroller off her registry. When she heard about the miscarriage through the Mean Girl (not only getting in other peoples' business but also spreading it around, hmmm?), she told Simon she was sorry it had happened and felt bad for us both, and then went on to talk to him like a normal person would--still a bit of unsolicited advice, but well within the range of what you'd expect from a new parent talking to a would-be parent. No hard feelings there AT ALL.

Secondly, as I was typing away yesterday morning, pecking at the keys like a cracked-out chicken, I was several times washed over by waves of doubt that I should be publicly airing such nonsense at all, especially somewhere so obvious to the other two people involved. I mean, it's not like Simon didn't know how I felt about it, and it's not like I needed the internet's backing to convince him that lines were crossed and there's no going back, and I certainly don't want her to read this (her past actions aside, I'm not in the business of hurting peoples' feelings and, damn, y'all are HARSH). The more I typed, the more worked-up I got, the more I thought I was just going to drive myself crazy with ineffectual venting and if I really wanted things to change I should just email this woman and tell her to MIND HER OWN BUSINESS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD and then be done with it.

When I finished typing and hit publish, the screen showed an error: "sever could not be located." I tried again; same thing. I put in the address of my host, and its site was down too. Shit shit shit. *dramatically* Or was it a sign? (I can hear Simon rolling his eyes from thirty miles away.)

Ten minutes later the site was back up and I took that as a sign I should post the entry (if you look for a sign, you'll always find one to suit your needs), and then I just sat back and let the comments come rolling in. And you know what? They totally helped. I was feeling calmer. I was feeling supported. I was able to laugh about the whole stupid situation. Sometimes the best thing to do is not try to solve a problem but just solve how you feel about it. The onus is on Simon, and I'm moving on to more important things.

Like how to dispel Linus's fixation with his drinking fountain. Yesterday there was a five-foot slick of standing water on the kitchen floor from the pawfuls he had scooped out and frolicked in while we were at work. I thought the fridge was leaking, but no, just another notch in the small one's feline mischief belt. Rotten orphan.

Both cats were exceedingly well-behaved at the party we held for Simon's birthday last weekend, and for that I am grateful. Eve jumped on the table and munched a tortilla chip into a million crumbly shards while no one was looking, but after that we kept a close eye on them lest they attack food, guests, or the bouquet of lilies and yard greens I had picked and arranged for Simon as a small token of my love and appreciation after having screwed up his birthday dessert (pumpkin rolls--it's 2/3 c. of pumpkin mix, not the whole giant can, you dummy!) as well as bought him a gift that needs to be returned (Swarovski crystals with which to bedazzle an electric guitar). I also never bought him his other birthday present because I haven't had the means to drive to a store ever since Simon took over my car a week ago, when his car battery died in our driveway. (We'll have to push it uphill to get jumper cables attached. Oof!) I also owe him a Christmas gift since once of those had to be returned as well, so basically, I FAIL at gifting and that, my friends, is why I'm going into hibernation until after Valentine's Day and also why, if we don't make us a baby this month (mid-October due date), I'm strapping on some sort of chastity device until May because I can't handle adding a child's birthday into the stew that already contains Thanksgiving, Christmas, Simon's birthday, Valentine's Day, and various other presidential and political holidays, which I guess don't really require me to buy gifts for anyone but still...I mourn the loss of my July baby if for nothing else than my own scheduling convenience. Like everybody else (on A Baby Story) I say, "All I want is a healthy baby," but look closely and you'll see the fine print detailing the other conditions under which it is acceptable to be born unto me. I'll be patient and flexible when the kid arrives, okay? For now, let me have my control issues to keep me warm at night.