Supine Fever » 2006

6.26.2006

Am a fugitive from justice

Apparently I am a criminal, or so my school says. I have forsaken the sacred agreement I tacitly made upon my arrival at school, and am now potentially liable for any massive security breach that may or may not occur imminently. My crime is as follows: I forged a date-stamp sticker on my student ID card.

Personally, I feel that my biggest crime was of being forgetful and dim-witted, ie. forgetting to pull off said forged sticker before I headed in to the administrative offices to receive my current one. But it’s not my call, and we will see what punishment is to befall me now!

What happened was, see, each quarter you are a student you go in and get a new sticker for your ID card. I guess this is their way of ensuring that you don’t graduate and continue going in their buildings and using the facilities well into your 50s, or something. So, since last quarter I wasn’t enrolled, on account of having been asked to leave the grad program (on account of sucking), I couldn’t go get a current sticker.

Now, the only reason I wanted one was to be able to enter the library occasionally, to print something out or, like, get a book or something. I wasn’t intending to massively defraud the school or anything.

My ex-roommate, the one in the mansion, owned a scanner and color printer (naturally), so she scanned in her sticker, printed it out, and taped it to my ID. I used it to get into the library for that quarter, but that’s it. So anyway, when I went in to get a current sticker on Friday, I handed over my ID, and the woman took one look at the scotch-taped obviously-paper-not-sticker I had affixed, made a surprised noise, and without a word got up, went to a nearby office, and photocopied my ID. She returned, handed it back to me, and said, “Okay, you have fraudently tampered with your ID, which is a very serious security offense. I will be passing on your information to our head of judidical affairs, who will be contacting you today or tomorrow about your hearing on this matter. What is your current phone number, so that he can call you?”

Me: (shitting a brick): Um, I’m really sorry, I had a sticker but it just kept falling off, so I just taped a photocopy on.

Her: Why didn’t you just come in and get a new sticker?

Me: I…didn’t know I was allowed?

Her: What is your phone number, for our head of judidical affairs?

So I gave it to her, and walked out of the office, and immediately called my three closest friends in a state of Total Spazzing the Eff Out, to commiserate and pick their brains about what I might possibly say to get me out of this scrape.

How do I do this to myself? I’m so jinxed! It’s like I’m a cartoon character or something! My life is one pratfall after another.

My next post may be coming to you from the lock-up. The big house. The slammer. Keep your fingers crossed for me that my apparent “security breach” doesn’t spread to international levels. I don’t want to go to military prison over a frickin sticker.

supine @ 5.01 pm |

6.18.2006

Shamed into updating

Hmm, JohnCub, you are probably right. Gay people do blog more than I do. As do straight people, bisexual people, and especially productive turtles. Everyone and everyTHING blogs more than I do. I get it.

Well, I am in SmallTowne, GA, visiting my dad and stepmom for the holiday weekend. It was a surprise visit; I told my dad I wouldn’t be able to come due to work and then called my stepmom while he was at work to arrange a secret arrival. I left straight after work on Friday afternoon and it’s a good four hour drive so I got here at about 10 at night.

They leave their door unlocked! How weird is that? I figured I’d be knocking on the door and forcing my dad to answer the door all “Who could be visiting at TEN PM? I did not even know that people were still awake at ten pm??” But instead I just walked right in, calling out hello and praying that my father had not recently purchased a handgun. (Or any kind of gun, really.)

And he was very surprised, which was nice. So we are having a relaxing Father’s Day weekend. Yesterday we watched my (step)niece ride in a local horse show and then at night we went out for Italian, where I turned 14 years old for the second time so far in my life and picked a fight with my stepmom over olive oil. No I am not kidding. And no, I don’t want to go into it. It was asinine. Suffice it to say that she and I are both stubborn bizzatches…that pretty much sums the incident up.

Happily, last week was my last week of working full-time at the restaurant. Don’t get me wrong, I love refilling glasses of sweet tea for unappreciative, sweaty, rotund tourists as much as the next 26-year-old college graduate who once had dreams of a fulfilling life (AHEM), but classes are starting up again tomorrow, so it’ll be back to part-time for me.

(Thank you, sweet baby Jesus!)

On the personal side, I continue to attempt to mend the pieces of my lovelife after being tricked so spectacularly by my ex-Manfriend. This basically involves my making myself as attractive as I can every time I leave the house, in the chance that I’ll run into him. (Which has happened a couple of times already; such a small city!)

My goal is for him to Live to Rue the Day He Tried to Do Better Than Me! and to try to come crawling back, so that I might crush him beneath my petite little foot. (I think it is working.)

I’m doing fine.

supine @ 1.41 pm |

6.8.2006

I give up. From now on, I am gay.

Gracias for the big show of solidarity, as well as the nice things you said about my rockingness. (And let’s have a moment of goodwill for the girl, who was seriously awesome to a)tip me off and b)side with me against him.) I am trying hard to be as ice-queeny and breezy (tm Monica from Friends) 24 hours a day as I was able to be for those few minutes at the coffee shop. But it’s definitely a little blow to my ego to know that a relationship that I thought was working pretty well was actually a sham, and that my partner-in-crime was out shopping around for a new model before he felt comfortable enough dropping his current one.

I mean, I did have some issues with how things were going. When does anyone not? I was in the midst of weighing whether or not they were deal-breakers for me when all this went down, so I guess he had found some deal-breakers in me at the same time. My main issue with Manfriend boiled down to the fact that when we got together, he had been pursuing me for a while (as we’d run into each other around town sporadically for the past six months or so), so I thought he was the one more into it than I, but as soon as we started regularly going out, and established that it was monogamous, he really quickly seemed to take everything (and me) for granted.

You know how in every relationship there’s one side that seems to be more “into it” than the other? Sometimes it flip-flops as time goes on, but (I think) one can always sense that they are more the chaser or the pursued. Personally, I feel most comfortable being the pursued one, at least in the early stages. I am not a girl to take the guy’s number when first we meet; I want him to take mine, to see if he likes me enough to call. And I’m not one to make the first move, or to call twice in a row (until things become more relationshippy and then of course I’m fine doing this).

I like to be assured that the guy is actively trying to spend time with me, and I try very hard not to get all shmoopy in my head about any guy until I have some confidence that he’s not just trying for a one-night-stand (an ONS, as Dane Cook would say), or that I am the punchline of a bet, a la She’s All That.

Which, yes, I am actually a little wary about.

So things with Manfriend had gone “comfortable” a little earlier than I had hoped. He’d stopped really asking me questions about myself, or doing little considerate things, or even willingly spending more than like five frickin minutes making out before trying to take my frickin clothes off.

Which, let’s be honest, is my main complaint in the whole “taking-me-for-granted” realm of behavior.

But, I was trying to be honest and open and discuss things with him when I got annoyed, instead of stewing in my own pissed-off juices like a pot roast, as is my natural tendency. I thought things were progressing in a nice, steady, open way. On paper he was great: creative job, good at managing money, clean apartment/bathroom/person, desiring to live in Savannah for the forseeable future, a good age gap from me, good at cooking.

From the beginning, I knew we weren’t “soulmates” or anything. We didn’t have endless talks that spiral around and cover every subject and are peppered with “me too!"s and “oh my god, that’s so funny!"s. Which, I know, is how things should be if you’re expecting to have a long-term thing with someone, but I sort of have given up on that.

Not that I’m going to settle for just any old stable guy who comes around and wants to be with me, just…there’s this one scene from Sex and the City (and at this point I know every male reader is checking his watch and clicking over to, like, espn.com, so…sorry) where they decide that maybe it’s too much to expect to find a man who you’re compatible with romatically AND is also your best friend. So they decide to be each others’ soulmates and to just let men be “great guys to have a fun time with,” or something to that effect.

I guess I can see where that idea could be interpreted as a sad statement on the status of male-female relationships in this society, but I’m getting to the point where it seems like maybe that really is as good as one can expect. So, long story short (hi Jennie!), I had decided that what I had with Manfriend was the basis of a possible long-term match. And it’s hard to have that fantasy, even if it was in just the early stages, ripped away so suddenly and shockingly.

What does he want with a random blond girl he met in a bar anyway?? Aren’t I a good catch? Damn, he really sucks.

supine @ 10.08 am |

6.6.2006

A breakup story that takes 6 million sentences to tell. (Sorry.)

Well, so I had a bona fide boyfriend. A bf. A manfriend, as I like to say. For two months, we frolicked, and talked, and went out to eat, and slept at each other’s apartments, and had a time of it. But now I am single. Again!

Let’s just say you are me. And you go to work, say, yesterday. (Strictly as an example.) Early in the day, you get a text from the manfriend which reads:

“If youre [sic] not working tonight, we should meet up and talk.”

So you get the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, the oh shit feeling. Because this cannot be good. It is, in fact, probably bad. You decide to salvage the small amount of control/power/dignity you have in such a situation, and to lay down the time and place of such a meeting. You text back: “Fine, I’ll see you at [coffee shop] at six.” Knowing he gets off work at 5:30.

(Because the alternative, of saying something like, “Okee dokey! Come to my apartment tonight after work!” would inevitably lead to a shameful dumping in your new, dark, box-strewn apartment, and the thought of tainting your new apartment with such a bad event early on is just too sad.)

And you continue on with your workday (and by the way, the whole “serving at the busiest restaurant in town thing?” LOVE IT) and then on your way out, you get stopped by a newish girl you don’t know very well, but she’s always seemed like a perfectly nice woman.

COMPLETELY THEORETICALLY, here is how your conversation went:

New Girl (NG): Hey! Do you have a friend named [Manfriend]?
Me: Um, I have a guy I’m seeing named [Manfriend].
NG: Oh. Ah. Well, uh, I was out at a bar this weekend, and I sort of…met him.
Me: Ah…what?
NG: He kind of…flirted with me and asked me for my number.
Me: …
NG: And he asked where I worked, and I said here, and he asked if knew you, and I said yes, a little.
Me: Oh…kay… Go on.
NG: And then he said…um, he said, “Yeah, I dated her for a week, but that was a while ago, and since then we’ve just been friends.”
Me: Uh, we’ve been seeing each other for almost two months now.
NG: Oh. Oh, man.
Me: Oh my god.
NG: (Hurridly) Look, I don’t want to get in the middle of anything, or do anything weird! I really don’t! I mean, I don’t know you all that well, but you seem really nice, and I just wanted to let you know! Because after he left the bar, Kim [my friend from work] came up to me and said, “Um, isn’t that supine’s boy that was just hanging all over you?” and I really didn’t know!
Me: No, it’s okay, it’s fine, it’s not…you. Thank you for telling me all this!
NG: I REALLY REALLY do not want to get in the middle of you and your boyfriend!
Me: Well, actually, this morning he texted me asking “to talk” tonight, so I have a feeling we’re breaking up anyway. But I’m really glad you told me this. Oh man, we are going to have WORDS tonight.
NG: I’m really really sorry.
Me: Dude, it’s fine. If he’s going to do this to me, in a bar we both go to, and where I have friends that would obviously see him, then…I just don’t know what to say. But listen, just so you know, if you do decide to go out with him now…well, just know that this is how he’s treating me, and we’ve been together for two months, so this is how he’ll treat you too.
NG: Got it.

Completely theoretical conversation if by completely theoretical, you mean, “it all freaking happened to me yesterday!” ARGH!

Soooo, we met at the coffee shop. I looked fabulous. I wore the outfit I wore on our first date, plus the shoes he loves. I brought his things for him in a plastic bag. He sat down, looking sheepish (thinking he was dropping some bomb on me) and I beat him to it. I handed him the bag, rebuffed all his apologies for hurting me and “not telling me sooner” with “Dude, it’s totally fine"s and “Oh my god, it really is no big deal; we barely went out"s. He was shocked, and I was perfectly breezy and unflappable, and he just got MORE flustered, and it was awesome.

And then I let him know that, “By the way, I told NG that, contrary to what you’d told her, that we have in fact been going out for almost two months.” And he was super-duper shocked, and tried to backpedal with “Oh I didn’t say that! She must have misunderstood!” But I was cold and ice and looked him in the eye and assured him that, “Well, she understands everything perfectly now. And I wouldn’t go banking on her being your next relationship.”

He pretty much pissed in his pants. And then he slunk out of there clutching his plastic bag of stuff, and I stayed a while, and then went to a girlfriend’s house and talked her ear off all night.

It was an eventful day.

supine @ 11.48 am |

6.1.2006

Hi from the school library!

I am not dead and neither is my blog. I am just in Deep Secret Hibernation Cover/Life Madness, due to the following reasons:

New apartment is fantastic, as is new improved position at work. Possible ruination via Financial Aid office at school is not-so-great. Am on my way to Charleston for two days of Single Hotel Room Hell with the parental units, and I will type lots and lots and post neato pictures upon my return!

Be excellent to one another.

supine @ 10.16 am |

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