Easy Cheese

Easy Cheese, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
Listening to The Police and contemplating impending solitude. The old man’s headed off to camping this weekend, and I’m wondering how I’m going to fill the time for three or four weeks without sobbing into my Mountain Dew.

This will be a good test of my strength. And willingness to drive hours to have a beer with somebody.
And as I may have mentioned, I’ve got the Chicago visit to look forward too, so that’s heartening.

Talked to an old, blonde friend today … I realize how much I’ve let some people off my rotation, and how that sucks, cause some of these people are too cool to fade out. [“Sub-question: Is it better to burn out than to fade away?”] I’m gonna quit doing that. Though some of the faded cool people are ex-boyfriends, and that friendship door is pretty well closed, for a variety of reasons.

Hostess with the mostest: Having one of Iain’s coworkers over for dinner tomorrow — steak and potatoes, a classic. This guy is evidently as uber-cool as they get at retirement age: enjoys painting, photography, the outdoors, music — he’s basically Iain in 35 years. I’m a little apprehensive, because I’ve never met this one before, and I’ve got to clean the house and … you know, kind of figure out how to be. I hate meeting new people. I detest it. I get all quiet and polite and fake, and I can’t help it. And it’s even weirder, because I’m meeting this landed gentleman at my humble, squalid apartment, furnished entirely in giveaways and Wal-Mart furniture. I know it’s the books on the tables and the pictures on the walls more than it is how stylishly decorated the pad is, but I still don’t want him thinking I’m slovenly and cheap … ugh.

Anyway. Enough fretting. I get a steak dinner and guaranteed good conversation, so I’ll shut it now.

June 19, 2003 | Filed Under auto-categorized