snowmageddon

Snowpacalypse, whatever you want to call it. We're supposed to get a huge blizzard, finally. It's happening on the perfect day, too. My day off. I've wanted a big snow storm for most of the winter and have been jealous of the west coast and all of their snowy glory. Now, it is our turn. Finally. Our own snowy mess is upon us. We'll see how the dish does, but I'm guessing I'm going to need to rent a movie as I don't have very high expectations.

I know that it's strange, my love of snow but hatred of winter. It's the cold that gets me and the logistics of dealing with winter travel. I hate the bus but promised my surgeon that I wouldn't ride. My boots leak, so I bought new ones. Hopefully they will hold up. My apartment is cold (except for today when the maintenance guy turned the heat up to 85 and was sweating when I got home). Just every day pains in my ass.

So, yes, winter. It's still happening. I'm doing worlds better emotionally this week than last and I am so grateful for that. I do wish this roller coaster would end. I'm going to see a therapist next week. I'm hoping that will help.

Barely Moving

I have to admit that this week has been incredibly difficult emotionally. It's been a full week, too, starting with last Friday. I stopped by Komoda to buy Jess' birthday gift and saw the lavender candies that I always bought for Kevin and it went downhill from there. I hid out that night, but in my defense it was single digit degrees outside, but forced myself to keep active the rest of the week. It's been a struggle, though.

There's no particular reason for this set back, nothing has happened. Maybe it's because it was around a year ago that I last spoke to Kevin on the phone and that conversation did not go well at all. He called and whispered something inaudible which I asked him to repeat several times. I accused him of being drunk and when he insisted he was just tired I accused him of being high (looking back, I should have known he was using again but I was trying to maintain my 'it's not my place anymore' stance). He still insisted he had just woken up from a nap and was groggy. When I was finally able to understand what he had said,"I wish things could be the way they were," which eventually started an argument.

I told him that they couldn't be and asked him where he was. When he told me he was at Kathy's I told him that it was one of the many reasons it couldn't be. I told him that he was a mess and that I could never take him back the way he was and then he accused me of being a mess because of pictures of me drinking and hanging out with boys on facebook (which was completely ridiculous). After going back and forth about why I'm not a mess and he is he told me that he knew he shouldn't have called, that it was a mistake and then just sat there. I hung up on him because we weren't talking. We were just sitting in silence on the phone.

How terrible is that? The last words he ever said to me were that it was a mistake to call me. Sure, we chatted online after that and it was fine but those were the last words I heard his voice say.

I checked my chat records and I told Kristine about this conversation on January 26, 2010, so January 25 was the last time I heard his voice and that's what it said. At least the sentiment before the mistake one was that he still loved me and missed me.

I'm reading Love Is A Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield. I've reached the part when his wife dies and he has to call all of her friends to tell them. He doesn't really describe the process, more states it but it's so similar to how I did it. I remember so vividly doing this, shaking as I called Bob and Ian, Winkelman, James, Nate, Emily, Nickey, etc. I said the words so many times that I just couldn't say them again. Johnny, of all people, and Bob, thank something for Bob, took over for me when I couldn't say it any more.

At least I have fewer days when I'm suddenly and horribly brought back to the feeling I had that morning when I called Lynn. I couldn't get the words out on her answering machine because I was crying so hard. I know that I said "Kevin died. He's dead" and then just sobbed. The words were forced through my hyperventilating and sobbing and I don't think she could actually understand them (I know she couldn't because when she called back she said that she didn't know what I said as I was leaving the message but that she guessed). I'm thankful to not relive that over and over as much as I did the first few months.

I feel like it's not getting easier as time goes on. It actually gets harder. In the beginning I did such a good job of mentally numbing myself and it just felt kind of unreal. As time passes, though, it gets so much more real. It sinks in more and more and I miss him exponentially more as each day passes. It's just so unfair.

so ronery

I hate these online dating sites. I promised Regan that I would try and it's really time for me to move on. I couldn't do it while Kevin was alive and now that he's been dead for over nine months I need to let go. When he was still alive I used to have hope that we would find our way back to each other. I no longer have an excuse.  I need to admit that I don't want to be alone forever. I want to get married. I want a stable family. I want a partner. I'm tired of sleeping, eating, going to movies, walking Lola, etc alone. I think that's perfectly fair. I went to a singles thing with team Peterson on Saturday and it was an absolute disaster. I need someone to step in and help. Someone I know has to have an eligible friend somewhere. Anyone? Something. Help!

food, smood

I can cook. I'm not a chef by any means but I can take some ingredients and make them taste good. I know that this doesn't seem like a problem, being able to cook something should be better than being able to cook nothing. The problem is cooking for one, lacking any better way to describe it, totally fucking sucks. I'm not usually one to just make something up, although I have been known to make something out of whatever I have in the fridge. Fridge gathering usually yields one serving meals, and that's great but I don't want to fridge gather all the time. I want to plan my meals in advance. I want to go to the store, buy things to cook and cook them. After I do that I don't want to have to eat them for the rest of the week because it yielded six servings. I'm all about leftovers, I had left over tamales that I bought from Claudio, the tamale man, for dinner tonight but I don't want to make a casserole and then eat that same casserole for the next four days because it's just me and I eat lunch at work. A meatloaf is tasty, but by day three I'm sick of it's loafy goodness. Strew? Yum. Soup? Great. Same problem. I have some chicken breasts in the freezer that I'm sure I could do something with, but who wants to eat chicken five nights in a row.

Maybe I'm just feeling down because I've made online dating profiles and the process makes me hate life. Maybe I'm just sick of eating alone or eating the same things repeatedly. Being single has its downsides.