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T h e A d v e n t u r e s o f C h i c a g o J o

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Why Yesterday Sucked

2005-05-29� � 10:32 a.m.
One

I got dumped.

Truth be told, I know that I life goes on. I�ll be fine. I may occasionally succumb to tears as stress relief, but that will be in the privacy of my own home or in the presence of my friend Happy or some unlucky random people who ride the el on an especially melancholy day.

I worry about Benito, though. I know he�s going to retreat to work because it�s an easy distraction. If you�re reading this Benito, please take time to think, grieve, and sit in your underwear, eat turkey dogs straight from the packet, and watch a Blind Date marathon. You may have done the breaking up, but it doesn�t mean that it doesn�t affect you too.


Two

I ran an especially difficult race on no sleep.

Ten miles in the sun with a varying path with the occasional wind off the lake will really get to you. My knees wouldn�t bend toward the end, and the rest of the day was spent uncomfortably.

Yes, I proud that I accomplished it. I made an extremely strong finish in a time that I�m not ashamed to admit to after all things considered. But really, it�s making me reconsider this marathon thing. My body took a beating.

On the upside, I ran with my friend Oz who is nothing short of wonderful. If there was ever a day that I needed someone to run with me and stick by my side for both mental and physical reasons, this was it. Thank you, honey. I�m so grateful.

Sidenote: I was shocked to see Benito�s enthusiasm at my race running. The race�s path had the runners pass each other after a turn-around point. He flashed me a big smile, a laugh, and a wave as he passed. He was also waiting at the end and so excited to see how well I finished. The only kind of donut I like was in-hand within minutes after he went to check out the food tents.


Three

I saw a dead guy.

As I entered the tunnel that lead to the race�s last 150 yards, one man was pulled onto a median and was receiving CPR. The man giving compressions yelled, �Come on, man. Stay with me!� as I ran by. Oz and I exchanged looks of horror, and we sped by as quickly as possible.

I have these photo-like captures in my brain, and I�m horrified that this has stuck.

I later thought I saw the guy walking around the after-expo. I know that there�s no way that they�d allow someone who just received CPR to be up and walking around, but I�m trying to convince myself that he was okay in the end. That they got to him quickly. That they had a defibulator on-hand to shock a little life into him soon after chest compressions began.

I�ll read the local news this morning to see what happened. Surely someone had to report on this. Hundreds of people ran right by it.


Four

Benito and I finally parted.

After the race we said goodbye to friends, walked to the new pretzel place by my house, and went upstairs to eat them and drink some Gatorade in silence.

Wow. This is it.

We embraced tightly, and I thought about how well we fit together. I�m not just talking about how we share similar values, opinions on issues that would cause cat fighting, sense of humor, but how we physically fit so well together.

In a hug, my head goes right to his shoulder. His head rests on mine. If I turn slightly, there�s a sensitive part of his neck exposed for small kisses. He�s got primo access to my forehead -- a kiss I find most endearing.

When my arms reach around, they cross to fit on his lower ribs, just where my thumbs can give some rubbing to those side-of-the-ribs muscles. His hands overtake my entire back. A single one covers an entire shoulder blade. When feeling crappy, this hug has many times been the perfect cure, delivering comfort and security at much-needed times.

After a little it�s-not-you-it�s-me, I�m-so-sorry, and I�m-so-crappy, it was time to go. An extended hug that I didn�t want to end and a kiss to my forehead, he was gone.

Yeah, that was it.


Five

I had to take off my ring.

I know it wasn�t an engagement ring or a promise for anything more, but I love it so much. Benito was so good at thinking of things I�d like and finding exactly that for me. If there was ever a most-perfect ring in the entire world, this is it.

The band was the perfect width -- not so small and wispy that it was overly girly, but also not so thick that it kept my fingers from moving or overpowered the stones.

The main stone was the perfect color, size, and cut. I�d never seen the radiant cut before, and it�s now an absolute favorite. As my favorite color, a blue stone was a natural choice. And who doesn�t like a big ol� honkin� stone on a well-matched band?

The side diamonds were also perfect. They added some shine, yet they didn�t distract from the primary stone.

It�s now in its gift box, in a drawer. I can�t wear something that was picked out for me by him -- especially not a ring that I enjoyed wearing so much as a sign that I was a happily taken woman.

I have a habit of adjusting it with my thumbnail, and I keep reaching up to feel the band missing. My finger feels so naked.


Six

I was already flirted with.

I was forced out of the house by my friend Happy with the reminder that no one there knew me to judge me if I did end up in tears, that we would be on the lake (who doesn�t like the lake?), and that everyone was really friendly.

I sucked it up, put on makeup as an anti-cry device, and rode over there.

Here I am: Wind-blown hair, no sleep since 8:45 the previous day, and wearing nothing special.

And yet I had a guy keep making eye contact and giving me a little smile. And another insisted on buying me a drink and talking about running with me. And another sat around for extended conversation, giving me obvious looks over his sunglasses and reminding me that he had his own boat, his own business, and his own blah blah blah.

There are a few issues with this, now.

First off, how the fuck do they know? I haven�t been outwardly flirted with in months, and yet these three pick up enough to let me know their intentions.

The first guy made my stomach churn painfully. I�m by no means up for dating, and here was this cute and pleasant guy giving me the more-than-friendly eye. I didn�t know how to avoid him, so I let someone else steer the conversation into a zzzz category and allowed someone else to invite me inside to see the view from upstairs.

As for the second guy, who knows what was up? I insisted on not drinking, but I had the strongest drink in the house in-hand as congratulations for running a tough race and an attentive ear asking all about it. I talked. He smiled and listened. He asked questions to prolong the conversation. And then I was saved when someone interrupted and asked about his boating stuff. I snuck away, slowly sipping my drink.

As for the third guy, there were two things. First, these are the slimes I�ll have to deal with later. (Well, apparently now. But, yes, later too.) I don�t need to be impressed by your possessions. I don�t care about your stock trades or commercial real estate. I know that I was at a yacht club and that all of the women there likely care about your pedigree, but I�m not impressed. I�ve dated the rich before, and turning a profit usually outweighed what I consider more important issues.

Also, the third guy knew someone Benito knew. When asked how I knew the guy, I had to say that my ex worked with him and that we hung out a few times. My ex. Yeah, Benito�s title has officially changed. Argh.

And now the final issue: I know that I�m an attractive woman. I know that I�m good fun to talk with. I recall pre-Benito when I had to carry around a fly swatter (if not something stronger) to keep them off of me. But really, why a mere three hours after what will likely be my last encounter with Benito? Do I really need to be reminded that I�ll be on endless dates with people half as good as my expectations in the near future?


Seven

There�s a small spot on my bed that still smells like him.

I�ve never enjoyed a man�s scent as much as I enjoyed his. (Enjoyed, not enjoy. Must start thinking in the past tense...) There was a mixture of his own scent with his cologne that meshed so well. And when previously embracing in a hug as described above, dear gawd did my knees get weak.

I can�t help but be sad and pathetic, and lean over to smell it. In the next few hours all of the scent molecules will have released, and the last trace of Benito will be gone.


Eight

Although not sleeping since 8:45 the previous day, I couldn�t fall asleep when I got home. When I fell asleep, it wasn�t pleasant.

I laid there from 10 until I started getting text messages at about 1. And then it went back to attempting to sleep. I know I eventually got to sleep because I woke up at 7:30 from a dream that made me want to cry some more.

Our favorite sushi restaurant has an all-you-can-eat deal where you have to have at least two people present to do. Without my sushi partner, I was told that I had to order a la carte.

If a sushi lover, you try to narrow it down to only two sushi rolls, knowing that you couldn�t finish anything more. I kid, I kid. This wasn�t the part that upset me so much. But know that you�re in your usual restaurant, that you�re now alone, and that things will be different from now on. That really hit home.


Yeah, it was a crappy day. But it really can only get better... �



Miss something?

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Speaking in Tongues - 2008-02-07
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