The Final Countdown

Two weeks and counting. And then the cute neighbor is just... gone. Driving off into the sunset in his U-Haul. Two weeks. Then I'm going to be left behind to try to figure out what it was that I did before he was in my life. I mean, how am I going to spend my Saturday mornings if not sleeping in with the cute neighbor, then cooking breakfast together while listening to NPR? I think I'm going to be running a lot.

Two weeks ago, the cute neighbor and I were at least able to go on a mini-break together. We got out of town for a long weekend camping at the beach. I wanted to use this opportunity to cross something off my New Year's Resolution list: skinny dipping. I've said it before and I'll say it again, but if I died tomorrow, my biggest regret in life would be not going skinny dipping. I'm not sure why, but skinny dipping seems to me a symbol of living life to the fullest, so to speak. Nakedness, water, the most natural of elements. So yes, on this trip I was determined to go skinny dipping.

Skinny-dipping on the beach, however, is not as easy as it seems (does it seem easy?). It's something that kind of needs to be done late at night, when the air is cooler, and the water dark and slightly scary. The beach closest to our camping spot (and thus within walking distance late at night after drinking beer around the campfire) had a big, scary-looking sign posted informing us of the high levels of bacteria found in that water and STRONGLY CAUTIONED us not to swim in it. The last thing I want to do is bathe my naked hoo-ha in high levels of bacteria.

Second, I was hoping to include the cute neighbor in this skinny-dipping endeavor. I mean, why wouldn't I? However, without my even mentioning skinny-dipping, the cute neighbor informed me that the ocean is the last place he would ever want to go skinny-dipping in case the fish mistake his dingus for bait. Hmm. Excellent point.

And thus, no skinny-dipping. But I WILL do it. I'm bound and determined.

Aside from the shattered dream, the cute neighbor and I had a fantastically awesome weekend. We rode bikes on the beach and went kayaking, and he didn't even get mad at me that my right arm is stronger than my left so I kept making left turns and he had to work harder to correct it, or that I flung mud all over him when we were going through really shallow water.

It really hit home when we got back and I told my roommate all about it, and she said that's so great that we'll at least have that last nice memory together. That made me sad. Obviously I don't know what will happen or how it will end, but she's right. We'll always have the beach.

It's so over

The question: Were the Highlander and I ready to go away for a weekend together? The answer: No. At least, there won't be any weekends away in our future, nor will there be any "us" in the future.

Things got off to a pretty good start. We got to the beach in the evening, went for a little stroll, plopped ourselves down on a beach blanket, and sat there until it got dark. When I woke up the next morning, I was wearing little more than beard burn over most of my body.

Sunday was back and forth. For a guy from Southern California, who just the previous night had told me seeing the beach felt like home, he had zero interest in the beach. First of all, he forgot his swim trunks. (And I suspect he didn't so much as forget them as intentionally not pack them.) He thought it was too hot (which is kind of the point of going to the beach) and too sunny. Forgive me for being confused, but isn't hot and sunny the goal? Sunday had its good points, but by the end of the day, I was v. frustrated and confused, and felt a bit like I had dragged him on a weekend trip he didn't want to take.

Everything came to a head that evening, as I was trying to teach him a card game. (Grayer, you know the one.) He wasn't really listening to my directions, but then he laid his cards down, announcing he had three of a kind. In his hand, were a king, a five, and joker. (Joker's wild.) He thought that equaled three of a kind because they were all diamonds. Now, I'm not much of a card player (this particular game is really the only one I know), but even I know what a three of a kind is. That started one argument, which led to another, which led to me saying, "well, maybe we shouldn't see each other anymore."

In all honesty, I've known he wasn't The One for me for awhile. Maybe it was when he told me Dumb and Dumber was his all-time favorite movie. Maybe it was when I went over to his house late one night to find him wearing pajama pants and slippers. In the summer. Maybe it was when he told me he had just driven across the street to pick up his Chinese food because it was raining. (That's when I told him about this wonderful invention called the umbrella that protects you from the rain.) I'm not exactly sure which of these incidents popped my bubble, but it had to have been one of them.

And to continue my streak of honesty, if he hadn't stepped up to the plate during my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week, we probably wouldn't have gotten to this point. Let's face it, had I not needed a distraction from my John Boy snub, he probably wouldn't have gotten past the third date. He works with computers, which is boring. He's not incredibly funny. And as we know from the three of a kind incident (and many others) he's not all that intelligent. In fact, I worried that I may have been too smart for him, but kept telling myself that I was being an intellectual snob when I had no right to be one, as I'm not an Ivy League graduate, nor a card carrying member of Mensa.

Sunday night could not have been more different than Saturday night, as we slept on opposite sides of the king-sized bed, although he did reach over to give me a hug in the middle of the night, apparently in reaction to a dream he was having. I expected Monday to be awkward and horrible, but it wasn't. It was actually very relaxed and pleasant. Maybe because we were both relieved? Maybe we knew we couldn't get annoyed with each other since we were no longer auditioning each other as significant others? Either way, it was far from horrible, and he even asked me if I wanted to talk about anything when we got home. I told him we would talk tomorrow, when he comes to pick up his cat.

But I know that we're just too different to work out in the long run, which is a shame, especially as this break-up occurs on the doorstep of another birthday. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go call a certain someone whose name rhymes with Luke Mogan...

Are we ready for this?

The Highlander and I are taking a big step this weekend. We're going away together. Little holiday weekend mini-break to the beach. It all started when I said I really, really wanted to go to the beach since it's been so long since I've been, and wondered out loud if I would be able to convince a friend to come along and sleep on the beach or in my car since I don't actually have money to go to the beach. That's when the Highlander stepped in and now I don't have to sleep in my car.

This will be good. Because even if it's a disaster, then it's better to know now. And I still got an all-expense paid trip to the beach. And if it's good, then I got a trip to the beach and possibly more. See? It's a win-win.