We Hurt Each Other

I despise making decisions, particularly if I'm asked to make one by someone else. Such is the conundrum I am in now.

I have hurt someone, and they have hurt me. I am not sure who's guilty of the greater crime, and I don't guess it much matters anymore. I just hate how we hurt each other. And while I want to eat my angry words, I can't deny their need to be said. I only wish I wasn't given the opportunity to say them.

Funny how vindication works. How many times have we longed for, ached for the opportunity to say how we really feel to someone who's hurt us? Yet, we often don't get that chance. That person could care less what you have to say or how you feel.

Yet, when we get it, and we finally spew out the venom inside of us, we're left feeling less human somehow.

Vindication only works when you are fully prepared to not give a shit what the other person thinks of what you told them. Which pretty much leaves us not wanting to spew to begin with.

I still care. They still care. That's why we hurt each other.

Conversation

I met up with a friend of mine the other night for dinner. We hadn't seen each other in a while and she told me about her brother's wedding, how she felt a little guilty crying when when she visited the house the happy couple recently purchased and were busily fixing it up to be their little haven of domesticity. "I saw what I thought my life would be... they had my life," she said.

She still hears from her ex from time to time. I ask her if she ever misses him and she said, "You know, I have tried to remember the way I used to feel about him and I just can't. So much has happened since then. I don't remember anything about being in love with him."

She's a little lost right now. She doesn't know what she wants anymore. She's confused. But she's not unhappy. She isn't miserable. She's been through enough to understand that it can be (and has been) a lot worse.

Funny how time heals. I'm happy for her, even if she isn't very happy with herself right now.

OB

The Retails Gods Favor Me!!!!

About six weeks ago, I left work to work out at the gym. I arrived home around 7pm, iPod blaring in my ears. As I walked into the kitchen, I could hear a loud rumbling noise. I asked myself, "Why the hell has my dishwasher decided to spontaneously run by itself?" It was so frickin' loud I could hear it over the music! When I pulled my earbuds out, I realized it wasn't my dishwasher; it was my refrigerator.

Since then, I have had to live with the world's loudest kitchen appliance. I've come to tune out the constant roar coming from the kitchen, but I am never prepared for its deafening and sudden, "Burlawaaaaaahhhhh....rattle" when the compressor shuts off.

It ain't worth fixing. I haven't even bothered having someone look at it, although while I was gone for Easter, my friend, who was watching my cat for me, had her boyfriend look at it and the diagnosis was unequivocably not good: it is, indeed, the compressor.

So the hunt is on for a new refrigerator.

Now, I don't think I have enough expletives in my verbal arsenal to describe how much stress and displeasure I experience whenever I am faced with a major purchase. I despise shopping for shit like this. I'd rather gnaw off my own arm than comparison shop, terrified of purchasing not a refrigerator, but a beastly, expensive piece of shit...imagining that scene in "Defending Your Life" when Albert Brooks drives off the lot in a shiny new convertible while the salesmen see him off with a congratulatory wave. Then, the moment Albert's out of sight, the salesmen look at each other in silence, then suddenly burst out in uncontrollable guffaws and snorts of laughter.

Yep, that'd be me.

After work on Friday, I realized I'd put it off long enough. Rather than spend my tax refund on, say, paying down the $2,000 crown I got in January or -- God forbid -- a real vacation, I set about the task of hunting for a refrigerator.

All I knew for sure was that if I was going to sink my hard-earned money into a refrigerator, it better be a) good quality and b) a step up from the boring white box currently groaning in my kitchen.

My first stop: Costco. No luck.

My second stop: Best Buy. There was one that was an "open box" deal, where someone purchased it and brought it back. It was only $579, with free delivery and a $220 gift card, which, depending on how you looked at it, would only make it around $360. But I've gotten burned on the open box deal before. I spent FIVE WEEKS shopping around for a DVD player years back, and I finally settled on a Samsung open box deal. It was the ultimate piece of crap.

Third stop: Sears. I found the one I wanted for $699, but they wanted $50 for an icemaker and $75 to deliver the damn thing. I crunched some numbers and it was going to set me back $800. But dang...it's a bottom-freezer model! But I thought it was best to keep on searching.

Last stop: HH Gregg. Found a stainless model for about $600, but dang it, I just wasn't feeling it. I HATE SHOPPING, especially for something I don't want to buy with money I don't want to spend!

I went home and slept on it.

I planned to resume my hunt after David Sedaris Saturday, but after being fed one too many martinis I was having way too much fun to go appliance shopping. Although I must admit that sometimes I shop better drunk, but driving is a different matter altogether! As much as I hate spending my tax refund on a fridge, it's a hell of a lot better than blowing it on a DUI.

Yesterday, I made my way back to Sears to look at my favourite fridge again. It took me two days, but I gave myself permission to get it. After all, I deserve a nice fridge, and when I sell this place, having a nifty new bottom-freezer model might help sell the place (and I'll need all the help I can get!)

Lucky me. I showed up at Sears and they'd marked that baby down to only $539! And I'll get another 10% off with a rebate. It arrives Wednesday. Happy dance!

For once, the retail gods smiled at me!

Second Chances Rock!

It's pretty cool when life throws you second chances, and I got one over Easter weekend in the mountains. My friend has a vacation cabin in Newland, near Grandfather Mountain. The first time I went there over a year ago, I immediately noticed this tree. Isn't that the coolest? Wouldn't that be the neatest spot to get married?

I've been to this house several times, and every time I drive up, I kick myself for not bringing my camera and snapping a picture of it. Fortunately, I was thinking ahead this time. Second chances rock! :-)

My hero comes to town!

Oh, I just love love LOVE David Sedaris! And I'm seeing him Saturday. I am PUMPED beyond belief. He is my writing hero.

In this, the era where "You" wins Time Magazine's Person of the Year era, where everyone is blogging, has a myspace page, and checks out youtube every day, isn't it refreshing to read memoir that isn't self-indulgent? Isn't self-obsessed? Isn't so focused on the writer all the time? You see yourself in David. You just do. That's why you laugh. That's why you just keep reading.

I started journaling when I was nine years old. And I continued that tradition consistently until about three years ago. Since then, I have hardly written a damn thing. I suppose because I have nothing original to say. Or my creative juices have run dry. Who knows....

But I'm fixed to get inspired again.

I am very sorry I haven't written much lately. It's embarrassing to visit my blog and the post that greets me is a pontification on the virtues of Nair. I mean, come ON! No wonder no one reads my blog anymore. And for those who do, you have my sympathies and apologies.

I have some posts in me screaming to get out. But I'm in a weird place right now and am waiting for some sort of clarity to strike.

Last thing I need is blogger's regret.

Stay posted, faithful ones. I'll write again soon.