Monday, March 30, 2009

16 Messages.

A foul bundle of voicemails awaited me this morning.

Thursday afternoon, we were released early from work due to a wicked blizzard that was bearing down upon us. Friday was a snow day. The display window on my phone warned me of the expected irritants when I sat down at my desk today.

Sighing, I dialed my access code.

"SIX. TEEN. MESSAGES. MESSAGE ONE. THURS. DAY. MARCH. TWENTY-SIXTH. AT. FIVE. OH. NINE P.M."

Nasal, creaky, annoying voice. "T-Bone, this is Mavis up on the hill. We are completely snowed in. Can you send one of those plows--"

Delete! The snow melted on Saturday.

"MESSAGE TWO. FRI. DAY. MARCH. TWENTY-SEVENTH. AT. SEVEN. THIRTY-ONE A.M."

Hippie chick. "Hiiiiiiiii, this is Saaaaaaffron... my address is, uhhhh, 421 Main Street... I'm wondering if the plowwwwwwws--"

Delete! Melted. Saturday.

Messages three through ten were hangups: delete! Delete! Delete! Delete!

"MESSAGE ELEVEN. SUN. DAY. MARCH. TWENTY-NINTH. AT. TEN. A.M."

A man this time! Young. Sounds handsome.

"Uhhhhh... hi T-Bone? This is Troy? Me and my fiance are getting married at the park this June? I'm-- (chuckle) well, WE-- are wondering if the facility--"

Pound sign! Forward to Joyce, extension 2565.

"MESSAGE TWELVE. MON. DAY. MARCH. THIRTY. AT. SEVEN. FIFTEEN. A.M."

"T-Bone? This is Dave. I'm at the shop and we really need to know about use tax. Regional won't approve our addition--"

Pound sign! WHAMMO! Forward to Kerri, extension 2551.

Remainder of messages-- hang ups.

Delete!

Delete!

Delete!

Delete!


Mondays suck.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Ozzie

When I think of him, I glow inside.

We talk, we giggle, we gossip, we sympathize, we discuss, we tease.

His messages on my phone, his emails in my inbox-- these simple things are little gifts left on my world's doorstep.

He's irreverent, genial, warm; all are drawn to him. His star-like qualities attract men and women alike, and they want to be in his orbit.

He is guileless; his charm is not bait, laid in a trap.

As his attention focuses on you, all others fall away.

And for me, most of all, he is a complete surprise.

First Day of Spring.


Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Natasha




Come taste the wine,
Come hear the band.
Come blow your horn, start celebrating;
Right this way, your table's waiting


No use permitting some prophet of doom
To wipe every smile away.
Life is a Cabaret, old chum,
Come to the Cabaret!


Start by admitting from cradle to tomb
Isn't that long a stay.
Life is a Cabaret, old chum,
Only a Cabaret, old chum,
And I love a Cabaret!

Sunday, March 08, 2009

The Children's Hour.

I've been dating him for nine months.

He's everything on my list-- handsome, romantic, courteous, polite, funny, responsible, sweet, kind, easy-going, hard-working. He loves his family. He gets along great with my family. He loves me.

You may be thinking, "But what, T-Bone?"

The fact is, I don't mesh with his younger daughter.

He was just divorced recently, separated from his ex about a year ago. So naturally his kids-- especially the younger one-- feel pretty rotten about it.

The younger one is very suspicious of me and my position in her Dad's life. I think she's certain I'll steal him away from her. Obviously this is not the case, but children tend to think in terms of black and white.

In the early months dating, I made myself very scarce to the children, making sure the girls had complete, uninterrupted time with Daddy. I wanted to make sure they understood that they were first in his life, that I was a newcomer and wasn't there to steal him away.

I felt that if I were to eventually become a part of their family, it would be done gradually and that it was his responsibility to explain this to his daughters.

It has been explained, yet the younger daughter still treats me with a great deal of suspicion. Only when prompted, her lackluster, bland "hello" greets me. She shows little interest in engaging in conversation. When she answers my questions, they are "yes" or "no". She never looks me in the eye, except when I happen to catch her glance as she walks past me.

Like I mentioned, he's everything. But with being everything, he also has a daughter who I can foresee will be a problem.

It's not just her; it's him, too. They have a strange dynamic, an oddly strong (and in my view unhealthy) connection.

One night, children at their mother's, he and I were having "grown up time". In the middle of a very intimate sex act, his cell phone rang.

He flipped open the phone, saw it was her calling and answered the call.

Reader, this was my "Aha!" moment.

So we're at a decision point, he and I. He and I have discussed this at length. Things decided upon during these conversations: I've never had children, so I don't know what's going on with her; I don't spend enough time getting to know her; she has always been this way; she's this way with all of his friends; I need to join them on more family outings; etc., etc.

Basically, what it boils down to is that it's me that's the problem.

To him, the case is not-- why is she so clingy? Why is she so suspicious of me (although I'm a regular gal and her Mom is a drunken slut who's been living with some gangsta guy even before the divorce was final and she's already pregnant with his baby)? Why does she call Daddy three to five times a night when she's with Mommy (and why does Daddy answer the phone each time even if I'm giving him a blowjob)?

So I asked for two weeks off to think about things. He understood and most graciously let me go.

I'm not sure what I'll decide. Not sure when I'll decide it either.

Not sure I have the energy to try to win over a child. Not sure I need to, either.