The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

I'm going to use this blog for therapeutic purposes this week in order to get over my break-up with the cute neighbor, so please bear with me.

In case you're wondering, I'm doing much better today, thanks for asking. I've broken it down into these categories, focusing more on The Good, than The Bad or The Ugly. Here's what I've come up with.

The Good:

• All the fun I can now have when I move to London in the fall. No, seriously. Now I can enjoy London to the fullest. It's going to be EPIC. As Grayer just pointed out to me over the phone, this could be the best thing to happen right now. I'll have way more fun now that I'm free and single. And ready to mingle. It's why I've made this song my official breakup song. (Don't worry, I'll also be listening to a lot of Alanis, Fiona, Lily Allen, Adele, etc. I'm not that cool about it.)
• My friends/sister are being pretty awesome. Grayer has listened to me sob into the phone twice in one weekend, then immediately started researching flights so we can take a post-break-up cleansing trip. Fenella did some top-notch research for me when I asked her if British men are into dark, curvy women (since she and I are complete and total opposites on that aspect. We'll never be mistaken for sisters) and made me laugh via email:

Me:(Fen) Do English men like dark curvy women?

Carson (TWH's housemate): Depends where the curves are.

Me: In all the right places?

Carson: Then yes.

See! You may need to give English guys a bit of a prod (figuratively speaking). This won't be because they don't like you. This is because they are a bit rubbish at making the first move. Some not so much, just don't think they don't like you because they will. But don't worry, you'll get prodded back (literally speaking). See what I did there? :)

It was funny, and I appreciated it. Another friend called today to see if I needed to talk and offered to take the day off work to come visit me at my parents' house in a few weeks (because when I'm there, there will be absolutely nothing else to do but think about it). One of my co-workers called him a turkey and offered to have his inbox spammed. I will obviously take the high road and not take her up on this offer, but I really appreciate it.

The Bad:

• The bad part comes when I don't think about the near future and all the fun I'll be having and instead think about what won't be happening down the road. There won't be anymore Vi and the cute neighbor, we won't end up together. I mean, my last name is Bickerstaff, and his is DiBickers, and together, our children would have been DiBickerstaff, how perfect is that? Apparently it's not perfect at all, which is why I'm focusing on the good.

The Ugly:

• I feel like I should send out an announcement to people so that they won't ask how things are going. If we were celebrities, we would issue a joint statement through our publicists that says something along the lines of "While we still care deeply for each other, we have reached the tough and painful decision to end our relationship. We remain the best of friends and wish that everyone will respect our privacy at this difficult time." Sadly, we're not that important. I've been telling people on a very need-to-know basis, (like everyone who reads this blog) mostly because I don't want to have to answer the question when they ask how things are going. It's easier just to cut them off at the pass, but it would be nice if I could just send out a mass text or something. Of course our favorite e-card site has plenty of cards for just that occasion, I just can't bring myself to actually send one.

It's also 10pm, and I haven't cried yet today. I think that's excellent progress.

Mama said knock you out

The other day, I had a rare late morning/early afternoon off, so I checked the gym schedule for a class, saw kickboxing at the right time, and went.

Two days later, I'm still struggling to lift my arms and put a bra on.

What I expected was a toned, 40ish woman standing in front of the class, instructing us to punch and kick the air in reps of 8, all to the tune of dance hits of the '90s. Instead, I found an Ultimate Fighting Champion/Brad Pitt in Fight Club, complete with the tattoos and mohawk, wrapping my hands and handing me boxing gloves, and blaring Eminem-type rap music with lyrics like, "take that, mother fuckaaaaa." And yet somehow, while he was screaming "Push-ups! Go!" and "Mountain climbers! Go!" over said rap music during our "warm-up" (which had me sweating profusely in mere seconds) I found something about it oddly sexy. Hmmm...

Since I was new to the class, I had the dubious honor of being paired with the instructor so he could show me the proper fighting technique. It was brilliant, actually. For 40 minutes, I did my best to beat the snot out of a man. It was incredibly therapeutic.

Emotionally unavailable?

THWAK!

$800 to fix my car? Do you know how many pairs of shoes I could get with that?

POW!

Not to mention the self-defense skills I picked up as Brad Pitt taught me how to use knees and elbows, as well as a jab and right hook.

So yes, every inch of me hurts, from my abs to the palms of my hands. (Seriously, the palms of my hands!) But I'm itching to do it again, and I would recommend you do the same.

You can bring me flowers baby, when I'm dead and gone

I took my puppy for a long walk at the park over the weekend to try to clear my mind. To be more precise, we went on two walks. We didn't walk alone. Ray LaMontagne joined us. Yes, I have a new man. For some reason when I'm upset, I'm driven to listen to dark and depressing music. If you are looking for dark and depressing then Ray is your man. One of my favorites is "You can bring me flowers"...

My eyes are dry my hands are tied

There's nothing I can say

If you feel the need to go

I won't stand in your way

Sit and think drown and drink

Sing this sad sad song

You can bring me flowers baby

When I'm dead and gone

Somehow the walk made me feel better. It was nice to hear that someone was more depressed than me. It's funny how music talks to you. In "Gone Away from Me" Ray told me:

Yesterday is gone

Yesterday is dead

Get it through your head and walk away

Yesterday is gone

Ain't no use hanging on to her memory

It only causes you pain

Yes Ray, we will call this a "Lesson Learned." The walk was cleansing and healing but somehow I can't be that at peace with things in everyday life. Today I entered the angry stage. No, I'm not angry at MM for breaking it off. I knew it would happen eventually. I'm angry at MM for the way he handled it. We were friends first. I thought that he would be honest and handle things like an adult rather than avoiding the situation and letting it stew. I told him when he got back that I'd rather he be honest with me than leave me in the dark. I said that leaving me wondering was the surest way to hurt me. I realized that is exactly what he had done. Upon this realization, I went from being upset to downright mad.

I started to think of all the things that MM did and all the things that he didn't do. I was even freshly angry that MM tricked me into going to a sporting event for my birthday. Yes, that's all I got for my birthday after dating MM for 3 or 4 months. And, I don't even like sports!! I told MM that this wasn't an acceptable birthday present and he said that he would get me something else but he never did. He left and I didn't even get a card. So MM...you can bring me flowers when I'm dead and gone.

Return of the Highlander

Don't worry, I haven't gone crawling back to the Highlander. But he just won't GO AWAY!

I was minding my own business yesterday, when my phone rang. I assumed it was Grayer, since I had left her a message earlier. Sadly, it was not. It was the Highlander. I had an internal debate that lasted a few bars of my salsa music ring tone on whether or not to answer. I really didn't want to talk to him, but I'm also incapable of ignoring a message. I figured it would just be a lot easier to answer and get it over with then to feel guilted into returning his call.

He was driving home from work, and just wanted to say "hi," since he hadn't talked to me in awhile, and wanted to see how I was doing. It was a very awkward minute and 36 seconds (I checked the time after I'd hung up). He told me he was doing well, as was his cat (the cat that I came this close to cat-napping, as he is frickin' adorable). I didn't contribute much to the conversation.

Of course I called Scarlet as soon as it was over. We both agreed that this was probably the last I would be hearing from him, as my obvious disinterest would be a big hint not to bother.

Oh, but the Highlander is not easily dissuaded. Or he is very dense. When I checked my email later that evening, I of course had an email from him. And judging by the time it was sent, he obviously went straight to his computer as soon as he got home. The email was really quite funny. He wanted to apologize for anything he may have said that upset me. Because obviously, the only explanation for my not wanting to talk to him must be that I am angry with him, not because I'm really not interested. He went on to tell me what an amazing spirit I am and that I possess a lot of qualities that most men are looking for in a woman, and he hopes that if we ever see each other again, that everything will all be water under the bridge. (The water being whatever it is that I am mad at him over, I suppose?) And the best part: He signed it "Sincerely." Sincerely! Seriously! I know he sat there and thought of that one for at least five minutes.

Because I use this blog as a form of relationship therapy, here is the email I really wanted to write back.

Dear Highlander,

I'm not really mad at you so much as I'm angry at myself for wasting three months of my life with you. (Although you did call me mean after I dumped you. Then told me every woman you've ever dated was mean. Hmmm, I can think of one common factor in all those relationships...) There were so many warning signs early on that I shouldn't have ignored. I know I said I wanted to be friends right after I dumped you. I may have meant that then, but I don't mean that now. Mostly because I realized after the physical part was gone (which wasn't all that great to begin with, but better than nothing), there was really no reason to hang out with you at all. You're right. I'm an amazing spirit. You, however, are not. I don't even think you're a spirit. In fact, I recommend that you find a doctor pronto and request a personality transplant. And make sure that comes with a few IQ points. Because no, I don't have special "pinchers" to take out my contacts. Peru was never a British colony, which is why they don't speak English there. And if you can't follow a more complex plot line than that of The Hangover, then that's a problem.

A backbone would also help. If you loved your dog so much, you really shouldn't have let your ex-girlfriend convince you to give him up. If you're a dog person, you really shouldn't get a kitten to impress the new girl (i.e., me) and then complain that the kitten runs around too much. If you aren't interested in a weekend at the beach, stay home. If church is something that is important to you, you should really mention that at the beginning of a relationship, not after you've been dumped in a last ditch effort to win some points. You're 32 years old, for crying out loud. Figure out what you want, already!

Sincerely,

Violet

Now, of course I didn't write that. But I did tell him that we clearly have nothing in common and should just go our separate ways. And I did tell him I hope he figures out what it is he's looking for. I haven't heard anything back thus far, but I really, sincerely hope we can put an end to the Highlander chapter of this blog. Seriously.