For the past two Sunday nights in a row, I have found myself on a pleasantly ratty and squishy loveseat watching football with CSP’s hand resting reassuringly on my leg (or he’s keeping me from escaping, I’m not entirely sure). Because I care quite deeply for CSP, I actually do make an attempt to understand what is going on, and even put some serious thought in to it (for instance, a discussion point from last night centered around whether if replays should be studied to the point of assisting referees with their calls? I think not because the game wasn’t designed with technology involved, and it just seems to take the point of having a referee at all if we’re just going to zoom in on the replay and dissect it from a digital standpoint). It is absolutely adorable to me how much CSP wants me to enjoy this with him. He gets animated, and talks as if we are really discussing various ways I could service him sexually. Such sweet romance!
I still dislike football and don’t give a crap about the game. I spent the majority of last night rooting for someone to stamp on Michael Vick’s neck. Seems someone received a somewhat garbled transmission, and he did manage to get injured, and hilariously bit his tongue, and had to be taken out of the game. Jackass.
During these special times on the loveseat, I’m generally playing Settlers of Catan on my phone. It’s a sick addiction, and I fear it will replace Angry Birds as a time-suck. However, it has proven itself a very useful, and welcome, distraction.
It’s been three Saturdays since I lost my man to football, and it hasn’t been terrible. We’ve managed to spend some extra time together Sunday nights, but that’s usually at his house where there’s a revolving door of visitors and late-night shenanigans. Who in their right mind starts cooking sausage after 11pm on a Wednesday, and then calls you on your cell to come downstairs and eat it? There also seems to be a contest on who can leave the most lights on, and have at least one device blaring noise to an empty room for as long as possible. I’m not sure if the winner has to achieve both of these goals, or if there are separate awards. I fear I’m making CSP lose since I keep turning off his light and stereo. Sorry! To understand what really goes on over there, I present the fact that they floated a keg in two-weeks’ time. I had maybe half a pint.
Nauticalina and Wikus have proven to be truly wonderful Saturday play partners.
Lately, I’ve had several very close friends do questionable things. Things that have already caused them pain, and will probably continue to cause them varying levels of emotional hurt. This frustrates me. I love my friends. I don’t like seeing them be so complicit in things that cause them such pain. It’s vexing to me on so many levels, and probably because I know I do the same things all the time. I talk big to my friends, and am pretty much a passive-aggressive supportive-nonsupportive asshole. I want them to make (what I feel is) the right decision—one full of self-confidence and esteem, one that doesn’t let someone else dictate the terms of a relationship. But obviously I’m just dictating, too. So frustrating for me to stand aside, letting them figure this shit out on their own, but yet also having to be supportive when I completely disapprove, and be there when they cry without saying “I told you so,” because there is nothing more douchy than that.
Today I let someone I love totally be a jerk to me. I did protest a bit, but didn’t completely call him out on it either. We make these exceptions for the people who matter the most, and I don’t know what to do about that. And I don’t know how to help my friends who are making even larger, life-changing decisions that allow people to trample their self-worth. Grrr.
Ahem. As promised, kittens!
No comments:
Post a Comment