2.15.2006

I'm too cheap for therapy (maybe I should sell my analogies).

I’ve been back in touch with someone who used to be a Very Good Friend. So good, in fact, that in a parallel universe I think she and I are probably running a book store/coffee shop, living it up in some quaint little city, sneaking smokes in the alley and buying each other beers at the late night Happy Hour down the street. Or whizzing around Italy and Spain on her ridiculously yellow scooter, inhaling bugs and laughing at our hangovers. The point is, this friendship, like four others born unceremoniously in the nineties, had the potential to be legendary. And then, it wasn’t. And then it resurfaced! And then it died again. And now, out of the blue, it seems to be steadily galloping alongside the train that is my life, looking for the right moment to grab on.*

But this is not the day to tell the story of the friendship that Used to Be, Then Wasn’t, Then etc. etc. I’m trying to work something out today. This reincarnation of a relationship that used to be part of the very core of me has made me (hesitantly, timidly, baby steps) happy, but now I’m in a bit of a bind. See, we were discussing (via e-mail, as international phone calls still cost a bundle and we are so not ready for a live discussion anyway) the blog thing. She confessed to considering starting a blog, but claimed she didn’t have anything of interest to say. Well. Of course I mentioned that that hadn’t stopped me from whacking off all over Internet Land.


Of course she then expressed an interest in my blog. I kind of blew her off. This is not the first time I’ve done this, when asked about my site.

Here is the problem: I love the idea of someone, anyone reading this site, I love the commenting, I love when someone sends me an e-mail so we can engage in further discussion of the inane shit I throw on here, but I’m not sure how I feel about giving everyone that knows me (well, particularly the out-of-towners) the link to Nothing Notable. I’m worried that it will take the place of keeping in touch the real and regular way, and soon there will be no need to call or write, because they’ll know everything that’s going on in my life anyway, so what’s the point? Why waste the time composing an e-mail or sitting on the phone, when, in five minutes (and at their convenience) they can hop in, get informed, and get out? No worries, this isn’t a throwback post to all the whining of last year (last year!). I’m over all that (or at least doing a bang up job of putting on my Brave Face and not acknowledging the downhill slide of… wait, I’m over it, that’s right).

So to give someone with whom I’m now barely friends the link, and then engage in any expectation that the friendship will once again grow and flourish after I’ve handed them the easy button (thank you, Staples) seems a little naïve. I’m sure part of what prompts her to write now is curiosity. We all would like to pull up a trash can and peek into the windows of someone we used to know. It’s possible that we’re at a new beginning, but I can’t settle into that idea just yet. It’s more probable that she and I are tossing little teasers back and forth, hoping that the other will stay interested enough to continue the correspondence. She’s better at this than I am, as I have the habit (as we all know by now) of disclosing too much and then being disappointed when the over-sharing isn’t reciprocated. I’ve already talked about work (surprise!) and the dogs and my marriage, and yet I don’t feel I have the right to ask her about her love life, since she hasn’t volunteered any information. That’s messed up, yo. (This is the point at which I officially acknowledge that I may be over-thinking this a bit.)

Okay, decision made. I almost whored it out in the hope of maybe possibly someday having it lead to a deeper connection. For now, I’m gonna keep my skirt on, stay out from under the bleachers and hold out for a real commitment.


*Not sure how to fix that analogy, but I like it too much to cut it.

2 comment:

Anonymous Hobbit Feet said...

Atta girl...

p.s.
the "good girls" who'd go unger the bleachers always came out sluts and no one likes a slut.

11:40 AM  
Blogger Lisa said...

LOVE that analogy. :-)

12:20 AM  

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