The boy is mine.

It's been almost a month since I received one of the most disturbing emails of my adult life. I don't call myself an adult lightly, mind. But I think this situation has helped me see just how adult I've become. Ok, fair, I  read those lines back and I know it sounds dramatic and I'm sorry because normally I try to keep the stuff that really bothers me out of my blog--but the truth is, I don't have a lot of experience with man-related drama, and I thought that I could help myself work through it by sharing it with you.
I'd like to think that I've cultivated the kind of friendships that don't result in backstabbing. The few women I've called close friends are confident, independent ladies who are too concerned with what makes them happy to bother trampling on what I've built, just for sport.

And these patterns didn't happen by accident. Growing up, I was never the kind of girl who dated my best friend's castaways. Even just telling me you had a crush on him was enough for me to avert my gaze. I was a loyal, devoted best friend and, I can honestly say, the only one in my group who never had a crush on Matt. (It helped that he smoked cigarettes and had the same name as one of my big brothers, but still--gaze averted!)

I remember it was a Thursday--ok, I didn't actually remember, I figured it was a Tuesday but I just checked the date on the email and a Thursday it was-- or as I'll be choosing to remember it hence forth: August 30th 2012,  a turd day.

Never could get the hang of turd days. 

Never saw it coming, either.
Of all the Brutis' that had ever Judased the accent grave kid, I really thought Rhi was on my team straight on into the apocalypse. She read a poem at my wedding. Introduced me to Harry Potter. Watched all three Lord of the Rings movies with me and laughed at almost all my insinuations to the homoeroticism. She sang a Tool song for me the first time we hung out. Spent a whole summer living at my house on Cape Cod. We catered together. No, run that tape back, we literally danced until September. She would add salt to the ketchup for our fries----fuckin jeen-yus, ked. 
Every time I get back to where she's living, it's like no time has passed at all.
This is the most broken hearted I've ever been.

I mean, she has been my best friend since I was 14 years old. I met her my first day of high school out by a bunch of bushes where she was smoking a cigarette. She was a sophomore with  long auburn hair and horn-rimmed glasses, plus the camouflage tights she was wearing clashed perfectly with our catholic school girl uniform.  Granted, I made fun of her to try and impress a fellow freshmen...um,  yeah...it went exactly like this:

Anyway, we joined Art club that year and Drama club too, and as a joke, we even joined the Spirit club. Mad at her as I am, I gotta admit that Rhi was the coooooolest. She introduced me to so many great local bands and had more Nirvana shirts than even Paul. Before I knew it, I was going over her house every night after school so I could stare sidelong at her brother as he played video games next to me.

And then I played this song and felt better about myself

Sometimes she would have me dress up as Farrah Fawcett and pretend to get caught sneaking into the Grammies, but that hardly matters anymore because on turd day of this year I received this email:

You see now why our friendship is over? I have been in love with Fox Mulder since this haircut:

When he said, "I think these children have been abducted by aliens," I was ready to hear what he thought.
Scully wasn't and Rhi wasn't either. When Fox eye-banged his partner in the same episode I didn't even get jealous. I knew his intentions were pure.

For science!

I was even able to be happy for him when he almost kissed Dana that one time just before she went into anaphylactic shock. Or the other time when he kissed her, but it was in the Bermuda Triangle so it didn't count and and besides, there were nazis. Or that other, other time when he kissed her but it just so happened that he had switched quantum states with another dude and eventually they switched back....

Basically, I only stopped watching the X-files because I realized I wanted two fictional characters to kiss and love each other and make babies and also meet aliens. Which is fine thing to think quietly to yourself but not terribly wise to spew in teenage tones at your parents during commercial breaks.

She's never moving out, is she. 

I wanted Fox to be happy, and if I thought Rhi was the girl for him, I would step out of the way. I did it for Scully and I could do it again. But Rhi isn't the right girl for him. Where was Rhi when Mulder was in a room full of Canadians all pretending to be Americans?
She was making out with Paul. Yes. She has been with Paul since the year I met her  and now they're getting married.

Back in the day, I would call her all the time to see if she wanted to hangout but no, she was busy making out with Paul. Who was I making out with? None of your business. Not Paul though. And not Fox Mulder either. So it hardly seems fair that she should get both. (Also, for the record I was likely watching Pokemon.)

She should stay away from Mulder and be happy that Paul makes great sauce, drums like a beast and puts up with the fact that she's trying to gank my main jump off. Look, I get it--Paul's not perfect--he doesn't want to read Harry Potter, he won't even let you name your dogs after Lily and James (for this I am not sorry) but neither would Mulder. You're living in a fantasy world Rhi, Fox is totally not even a dog person. Face it--the boy is mine.

You have read this article Cloud Atlas / Dana Scully / Earth wind and Fire / Fox Mulder / Marriage is gay / Overly attached girlfriend / Pokemon / Rage Comics / Rainbow Dash / Sassy gay friend / the Force / X files with the title Earth wind and Fire. You can bookmark this page URL https://trendcelebrity2014.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-boy-is-mine.html. Thanks!

What a fool believes

So a few things about things,  my favorite  convocation, I've been a wicked may-jah losah about commenting on all my friends blogs lately--even though I've been reading them in bits and snippets when I can. Frankly I've been working like a skinny tie, 80's upstart with an expensive drug habit. Or a mom with 10 children that are never going to college, if you like.  (One of them really should though, there is good money in that.)
I was very tempted to post and highlight the difference between my teaching resume and and my service/sales resume, but, for the sake of brevity, I will say instead that writing a curriculum vitae is all about constructing a narrative you can sell...
So anyway, I'm waitressing.
I have to balance plates on my hands and my arms, and I'm just learning to trust myself as I navigate the dining-rooms.
 The staff I work with is fluid and flexible and are all totally unafraid to put me in my place--which sometimes made me want to cry, but ultimately, is making me better.

The other night when I returned for my second shift, the back dining room was set up for a cocktail party. Upon inquiring with one of the old timers behind the bar, I was told the space had been rented by"Some theater thing, some--I don't know, film--we had them here last year too." He waved his hand dismissively and impressed me yet again with another perfect pour.
I was like, ok it's Paris, people are putting on little film things all the time, whatever. We closed the whole place down at 10 to the regular customers , who, while being forced to leave, were  whispering to me about how there were famous people in the next room and they wished they could get their autograph.  I was like, lol, the French. Them and their little icons whom no one else has heard of because they're not making films in English. Lolzorz. Lol. Sofunnyahahah.
Ignorant American?
Yes, I believe that passport needs a stamp.

So, the party gets going and my arms are totally loving their workout. I'm moving around the room collecting glasses and giving out finger foods. It's almost midnight, but I'm wide awake and  feeling pretty nostalgic reflecting back on that the idyllic Cape Cod summer my best friend and I catered for the company my sister was managing. The clip on ties and the Doobie Brothers all the time. Some Dj's never change, we were dancing till September everyday...
Atanyrate, being as disconnected with the world as I am, I had no idea who that good looking guy was or what other films he was in. So when I proffered a tray of sweets and pulled it away a few times il a'dit, "vous etes une blaggeur, non?"
"Pas trop" was my response.
Nothing more than that. But I googled the movie and the guy when I got home and realized belatedly that that guy was Jean Dujardin. This is why I don't have a bucket list, because how could you ever arrange to tease a famous actor who's up for an oscar?!

Anyway, in the name of balance, I was horribly sick the next day, my day off, and our anniversary. Sebastien is such a good, good man. His gift to me was a living document of the memories he could remember about our relationship in it's early years. We've only been together six, which makes me chuckle a little about what an old man Sebastien has always been.  It's a good read. It obviously made me cry and I would post it for you, but some of it is pretty naughty. There totally came a point where I said, 'Oh my, we must never let our children see this!'

He's better than I deserve, but I made him chocolate covered chips and Boeuf Bourguignon. We spent all of my tips from that shift on high quality ingredients and were not disappointed. I wanted to break out the champaign and try out some new cocktails but I'm generally not in favor of drinking when I am sick. And when I say genrally, I mean totally.
I had a fever for part of this sick-show and two of our friends came over because they didn't see my cancellation email. They had never seen me in my PJs either, or so near tears as when Sebastien accidentally bumped my arm.
YUP.
It was two single dudes, too. I'm sure they left greatly impressed upon.
Oh, speaking of my friends, Aude defended her dissertation on whether localizing circuits would increase pattern coherence of electrons in low-temperature environments would lead to, yeah I stopped reading too...
Whatevski--she did it! We so proud!

And if you're feeling mathy, and I know some of you are,  please check out my other friend's post doctoral project, Micro GP. He and his team have  developed an evolutionary algorithm to solve hard problems. It's open source and free, so use it and share it and see if you can give it something truly masterful  to consider. That is your homework. Well, that and this:

Yeah, he's one of those. But we don't hug, we french kiss. ;P
Don't worry about me, friends--haven't died, you and I are still cool. Even if you're not the sort of friend who will tell me when I've got something stuck in my teeth,  that means, at least, that I will never fart in front of you...
WHAT?
I fail to see how this is in any way a downside for you, I've been eating steak tartar.
Ok.
It's time for sleeps, my peeps.  Hasta luego.

You have read this article bronies / Doobie Brothers / Earth wind and Fire / evolutionary algorithm / Jean Dujardin / math / Micro GP / open source / The Post Modern Talk-o with the title Earth wind and Fire. You can bookmark this page URL https://trendcelebrity2014.blogspot.com/2012/02/what-fool-believes.html. Thanks!